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ALBERT  1 


KYDER 


Frederic  Fairchild  Sherman 


YaaoAHT  Aa8  a 

.JJI  ,O0A3IH3  ,YaMaUO  HqJAH  .HM  MOITOaJJOD 


New  York 


vICMXJi 


A  SEA  TRAGEDY 
COLLECTION  OF  MR.  RALPH  CUDNEY,  CHICAGO,  ILL. 
Canvas,  1554  inches  high,  13  inches  wide. 


ALBERT  PINKHAM  RYDER 


BY 

Frederic  Fairchild  Sherman 


New  York 
PRIVATELY  PRINTED 

MCMXX 


Copyright^  1920.  Vy 
Frederic  Faircliild  Sherman 


QE^i  CENTER 
LIBRARY 


PREFATORY  NOTE 


In  writing  this  monograph  on  Albert  Pinkham 
Ryder  I  have  borrowed  freely  from  what  others  have 
written  about  him  and  have  included  very  much  of 
all  that  the  artist  published  during  his  lifetime— both 
poetry  and  prose — as  well  as  extracts  from  several  of 
his  very  rare  letters  to  friends. 

Many  of  the  latter  have  very  kindly  assisted  me 
in  various  ways  and  it  is  a  pleasure  to  acknowledge 
my  indebtedness  to  his  sister s:in4aw  Mrs.  E.  N.  Ryder, 
Mr.  Thomas  B.  Clarke,  Mr. Walter  Fearon,  Mr.  Al= 
bert  Groll,  Mr.  N.  E.  Montross,  Mr.  Alexander  Shil^ 
ling  and  others  for  many  courtesies,  and  for  help  with? 
out  which  no  such  a  presentment  of  Ryder's  person^ 
ality  could  have  been  made.  Miss  Nellie  A.  Rider  of 
Providence,  R.  I.,  I  have  to  th^nk  for  the  genealogy 
and  for  the  reminiscences  of  his  grandparents,  and  to 
Mr.  EHot  Clark  I  owe  the  very  able  synopsis  of  the 
artist's  methods  and  his  technic. 

The  estimate  of  Ryder's  personaUty  and  of  the 
character  and  importance  of  his  work  which  is  pre? 
sented  in  this  Httle  volume  is,  however,  my  own. 


CONTENTS 

Part  One.       Liife  and  Personality   ....  ii 

Part  Two.      Estimate  of  His  Poetry    ...  29 

Part  Three.     His  Opinions  about  Painting. 

Description  of  His  Methods 

and  His  Technic    ....  33 

Part  Four.      A  Resume  of  Some  of  His 

Important  W^orks  and  an  At* 

tempt  to  Elucidate  their 

Meanings  45 

Part  Five.       Estimate  of  the  Artist  and 

His  Art   .  59 

Pictures  Painted  by  Albert  Pinkham  Ryder     .  65 

Bibhography  75 

Paintings  exhibited  by  Albert  Pinkham  Ryder 
The  National  Academy  of 

Design  76 

The  Society  of  American 

Artists  76 

The  Metropolitan  Museum  Memorial  Exhibition  77 


5 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

A  Sea  Tragedy  Frontispiece 

The  Temple  of  the  Mind   Page  i  2 

Dancing  Dryads   ''12 

Pegasus   ''12 

Siegfried  and  the  Rhine  Maidens       .     .  ''16 

Resurrection   ''18 

Forest  of  Arden   ''18 

Jonah   2  2 

Opheha   ''24 

MoonKght  on  the  Sea   ''26 

Landscape   ''26 

The  Flying  Dutchman   ''30 

Moonhght   ''32 

Moonlight  at  Sea   3  ^ 

With  Sloping  Mast  and  Dipping  Prow  .  ''34 

The  Smugglers   ''34 

The  Race  Track     .......  ''38 

Passing  Song   40 

Macbeth   ''40 

Constance   ''42 

Christ  Appearing  to  Mary     .     .     .     .  42 

Arab  Camp    ''46 

Landscape  with  Sheep   48 

TheSheepfold   .   "48 

The  Dead  Bird   "50 

7 


TKe  Barnyard   ''50 

The  Spirit  of  Autumn   ''54 

TKe  Spirit  of  Spring   ''54 

Smugglers' Landing  Place       ....  ''56 

Tke  Elegy   "56 

The  Wreck    ^'58 

Homeward  Bound   ''62 

Misty  Moonlight     .......  ''62 


8 


ALBERT  PINKHAM  RYDER 


PART  ONE 


LBERT  PINKHAM  RYDER,  the 
youngest  of  the  four  sons  of  Elizabeth 
Cobb  and  Alexander  Gage  Ryder,  of 
Yarmouth,  Mass.,  was  born  m  New 
Bedford,  March  ig,  1847  ^ 
house  on  Mill  Street,  near  Acushnet 
Avenue,  opposite  the  home  of  Albert  Bierstadt.  New 
Bedford  was  the  home  of  Ryder's  mother,  and  his 
father,  born  in  Yarmouth  April  6th,  18 15,  must  have 
settled  there  after  1839,  ^^^^  year  his  brother 

Preserved  Milton  Ryder  was  born  in  Yarmouth,  the 
birthplace  also  of  the  older  brothers,  \Villiam  Davis 
(1836)  and  Edward  N.(i837).  The  Ryders  (or  Riders, 
as  the  name  is  more  usually  spelt  by  the  Cape  Cod 
branch  of  the  family)  were  all  Yarmouth  people.  The 
ancestral  line  begins  with  Samuel  Rider  (born  in  1638 
or  1639,  ^^^^      ^^79)^  follows:  Samuel'; 

John ' ;  Ebenezer ' ;  John  * ;  Reuben '  ;  Benjamin '  ; 
Alexander '  ;  Albert ' .  Benjamin  Rider,  Albert  s 
grandfather,  was  a  carpenter  who  built  several  of  the 
old  houses  in  Yarmouth,  including,  probably,  his  own 
home,  the  old  Rider  house  on  Main  Street.  Both  he 
and  Albert's  grandmother,  Betsy  Hawes  Rider,  were 
very  religious  people  belonging  to  a  branch  of  the 
Methodist  faith  whose  women  dressed  after  the  man^ 


II 


ner  of  the  Quakers.  At  New  Bedford  his  father  was 
for  some  time  boarding  officer  at  the  Custom  House 
and  a  dealer  in  fuel  beside.  The  family  moved  to  New 
York  in  1867  or  68.  There  Ryder's  mother  died  June 
19, 1892,  and  his  father  on  the  same  day  of  1900.  His 
brothers  Edward  N.  and  Preserved  Milton  were  both 
at  one  time  or  another  seafaring  men;  the  former  was 
in  1865  an  Ensign  on  the  U.  S.  Gunboat  ''Young 
Rover'' .  The  other  brother  William  Davis  married  a 
Miss  Jones  of  New  York  and  was  engaged  with  his 
father=:in?law  in  the  restaurant  business  for  many 
years  at  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Howard  Street 
under  the  firm  name  of  Jones  and  Ryder.  Later  he 
became  the  proprietor  of  the  Hotel  Albert  on  Elev^ 
enth  Street. 

As  a  boy  Albert  Ryder  attended  the  Middle  Street 
Grammar  School  in  New  Bedford,  from  which  he 
graduated,  and  where  he  was  familiarly  known  as 
Pinkie",  a  nickname  which  his  intimate  friends 
curiously  continued  to  use  to  the  end  of  his  life.  As 
a  child  of  four  he  would  sometimes  be  found  lying  on 
his  stomach  on  the  floor,  oblivious  to  everything 
except  his  picture  book.  Later  as  a  little  lad  he  seemed 
not  to  care  much  for  drawing,  wishing  always  to  exs: 
periment  with  colors.  He  had  early  found  his  way 
into  a  studio  on  WiUiam  Street  in  New  Bedford, 
where  an  artist  named  Sherman,  as  his  sister^in4aw 
believes,  taught  him  to  mix  his  colors  and  somewhat 
of  how  to  use  them.  This  was  while  the  painter 
was  still  in  his  teens  and  he  has  left  us  the  following 


12 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  THE  MIND 
MUSEUM  OF  ART,  BUFFALO,  NEW  YORK 
Panel.    173^  inches  high,  16  inches  wide.    Signed  lower  right,  Ryder. 


.  vvas 
:  . louse 
..mily  moved  to  New 
eve  Rvdevs  mother  died  June 
:ne  day  of  1900.  His 
erved  Milton  were  both 
1;  the  for: 

lu  X  :  ^,  ^.  Gunboat 


-a  a 


headway  and  I 

mes  and  R'^ 

cmiM  ajiT  HO  aj  :^ 
ji9iOY  waw  ,ojA''d['fiua  ' i 


ct  on 


Midci 


iie 


hich 

CUT  ^  fo  use  to  th 

.\  sometimes  be 
on  the  tloor,  oblivious  g; 
picture  book.  Lateral  d 
for  drawing,  V. 

'''•::'S,   tie  had  ca^iy  iouiio^  iui>  'WiXy 
Oil  V  New  Bedford, 


left  us  the  f  g 


DANCING  DRYADS 
COLLECTION  OF  MR.  JOHN  GELLATLY,  NEW  YORK 
Canvas.    9  inches  high,  7  inches  wide.    Signed  lower  right,  A.  Ryder. 


XHOY  WSiVi  .YJTAJJaO  HHOl  .HM  '^lO  MOITOajJOD 
.isb^cH  .A  ^Id-gii  lawol  bangrg     abiw  cisrioni  V  ,ri3rri  23rioni  Q  .aBvnfiD 


OMIVIHHA  2U8AOaq 
.82AM  .HaxaaDHOW  ,T5iA  "^O  MUaZUM' 
,>l36d  no  b^diiDgnl    .abtw  aarioni  ^11  .rigiri  aarfom  SI  .bnsi 


record  of  his  sensations  and  experiences  when  he 
first  undertook  painting  with  oils : 

""When  my  father  placed  a  box  of  colors  and 
brushes  in  my  hands,  and  I  stood  before  my  easel 
with  its  square  of  stretched  canvas,  I  realized 
that  I  had  in  my  possession  the  wherewith  to 
create  a  masterpiece  that  would  live  throughout 
the  coming  ages.  The  great  masters  had  no  more. 
I  at  once  proceeded  to  study  the  works  of  the 
great  to  discover  how  best  to  achieve  immortal^ 
ity  with  a  square  of  canvas  and  a  box  of  colors.'' 

"•Nature  is  a  teacher  who  never  deceives. 
When  I  grew  weary  with  the  fiitile  struggle  to 
imitate  the  canvases  of  the  past,  I  went  out  into 
the  fields,  determined  to  serve  nature  as  faith;: 
fixlly  as  I  had  served  art.  In  my  desire  to  be  ac^ 
curate  I  became  lost  in  a  maze  of  detail.  Try  as 
I  would,  my  colors  were  not  those  of  nature. 
My  leaves  were  infinitely  below  the  standard  of 
a  leaf,  my  finest  strokes  were  coarse  and  crude. 
The  old  scene  presented  itself  one  day  before  my 
eyes  framed  in  an  opening  between  two  trees. 
It  stood  out  like  a  painted  canvas — the  deep  blue 
of  a  midday  sky — a  soHtary  tree,  brilliant  with 
the  green  of  early  summer,  a  foundation  of 
brown  earth  and  gnarled  roots.  There  was  no 
detail  to  vex  the  eye.  Three  solid  masses  of  form 
and  color — sky,  fohage  and  earth — the  whole 
bathed  in  an  atmosphere  of  golden  luminosity; 


I  threw  my  brushes  aside ;  they  were  too  small 
for  the  work  in  hand.  I  squeezed  out  big  chunks 
of  pure,  moist  color  and  taking  my  palette  knife, 
I  laid  on  blue,  green,  white  and  brown  in  great 
sweeping  strokes.  As  I  worked  I  saw  that  it 
was  good  and  clean  and  strong.  I  saw  nature 
springing  into  life  upon  my  dead  canvas.  It  was 
better  than  nature,  for  it  was  vibrating  with  the 
thrill  of  a  new  creation.  Exultantly  I  painted 
until  the  sun  sank  below  the  horizon.'' 

After  the  family  went  to  New  York,  and  the  artist 
was  in  his  early  twenties,  he  really  first  began  his 
serious  study  of  art  as  a  pupil  of  WilHam  E.  Marshall, 
himself  a  pupil  of  Couture  and  a  painter  and  engraver 
of  portraits,  from  whom,  if  he  secured  anything  at  all 
beyond  certain  tricks  of  technic,  it  was  certainly  no ths 
ing  more  nor  less  than  a  liking  for  warm  tonality  of 
color.  In  January  of  1871  he  entered  the  school  of  the 
National  Academy  and  studied  for  a  time  in  the  An^ 
tique  class.  He  must  have  soon  sensed  the  futility  of 
following  the  teachings  of  others  if  he  was  to  con^ 
tinue  to  cultivate  his  individual  taste  in  art,  just  as 
earlier  still  he  had  realized  the  futiHty  of  imitating 
the  canvases  of  the  past,  and  however  much  we  know 
he  sacrificed  by  never  mastering  a  sound  technic,  we 
may  congratulate  ourselves  at  least  upon  the  fact  that 
by  so  doing  he  preserved  his  personal  predilection 
for  imaginative  and  spiritual  expression. 

Blakelock,  Abbott  H.  Thayer,  Tryon,  Wyant  and 


14 


Homer  Martin  were  all  represented  in  the  annual  ex? 
Kibition  of  the  National  Academy  in  1873  when 
Ryder's  first  picture  was  accepted  and  hung.  This 
painting,  called  Clearing  Away,  was  probably  one  of 
the  not  very  distinguished  early  landscapes  wherein 
one  finds  little  if  any  promise  of  che  original  char* 
acter  and  exceptional  beauty  of  his  later  work.  He 
was  a  pretty  regular  contributor  to  the  Academy 
until  1888  and  some  of  his  best  canvases  were  ex? 
hibited  there,  among  them  the  Ophelia  and  the  Christ 
Appearing  to  Mary.  In  1902  he  was  made  an  associ? 
ate  of  the  Academy  and  Academician  in  igo6,  his 
portrait  for  the  society  being  painted  by  J.  Alden 
W^eir. 

Soon  after  the  Society  of  American  Artists  was  or? 
ganized  in  1877  Ryder  was  invited  to  become  a  mem? 
ber  and  he  sent  something  to  every  exhibition  but 
that  of '85,  from  the  first  held  in  1878  to  that  of  1887. 
Among  these  pictures  were  as  many  as  five  of  his 
moonlights  and  marines  and  such  canvases  as  the 
Curfew  Hour,  now  in  the  MetropoKtan  Museum, 
and  the  Eastern  Scene. 

As  one  will  readily  surmise  fi:om  this  record  of  his 
activity  practically  all  of  his  best  work  was  produced 
during  the  short  period  of  twenty?five  years  fi?om 
'73  to  '98.  That  part  of  it  which  was  not  actually 
completed  at  the  latter  date  was  probably  at  least 
then  under  way,  fi:om  which  we  may  reasonably  con? 
elude  that  his  active  life  as  an  artist  ended  surely 
within  a  very  few  years  thereafter.  Thenceforward 


15 


he  seems  to  have  done  nothing  more  than  try  to  finish 
satisfactorily  to  himself  the  finer  things  already  begun 
of  which  several,  including  The  Tempest  and  The 
Lorelei,  remained  in  his  studio  at  the  time  of  his  death. 
It  is  characteristic  of  the  man  that  he  should  have  pre* 
ferred,  lacking  adequate  ideas  for  new  pictures  of  a 
corresponding  individuaUty,  to  expend  his  energies 
upon  the  effort  to  make  surpassingly  beautiful  some* 
thing  which  he  had  already  started  and  which  he 
knew  to  be  original,  rather  than  to  turn  his  hand  to 
the  manufacture  of  numerous  rephcas  of  the  kind  of 
things  he  had  already  found  a  market  for.  Such  work 
would  probably  have  met  a  ready  sale  and  made  it 
possible  to  live  in  ease  if  he  had  so  desired,  but  it  could 
have  added  no  lustre  to  his  fame  and  would  have  given 
Httle  or  no  satisfaction  to  himself 

During  the  period  of  Ryder's  activity  he  was  vari* 
ously  compared  with  Jules  Dupre,  Blakelock  and^^. 
Gedney  Bunce, — more  especially  with  Blakelock. 
To  say  that  the  criticism  aimed  at  his  work  was  not 
altogether  unwarranted  is  not  to  say  that  it  was  en* 
tirely  merited  or  entirely  just.  It  was  probably  as 
near  to  being  right  as  contemporary  criticism  ever  is. 
It  was  said  of  him  that  he  was ' '  as  far  removed  as  may 
be  from  reaKsm  in  his  use  of  nature,  and  like  Blakelock 
has  a  noble  quaHty  of  color,  while  in  the  quality  of 
imagination  he  far  exceeds  him,  having  a  greater  grasp 
of  the  unexpected. The  late  Ripley  Hitchcock  wrote 
in  The  Art  Review  that  ''with  Ryder,  color  is  the 
chief  end,  but  in  an  uncertain  way  the  artist  aims  to 

i6 


SIEGFRIED  AND  THE  RHINE  MAIDENS 
COLLECTION  OF  LADY  VAN  HORNE,  MONTREAL,  CANADA 
Canvas.    193^  inches  high,  20^  inches  wide.    Signed  lower  right, 

A.  P.  Ryder. 
Exhibited  at  Society  American  Artists,  1902. 


n  ^  "y  to  finish 
begun 

4  I  he  Tempest  and  The 
ui  his  litudio  at  the  time  o 
of  the  man  that  he  should  iiave 

:eas  for  new  pictures  oi  a 

■  -'.^  his  energies 
-  to  m^  ^autifui  some* 

t}  ^  he        ^^re^r^y  ^rf^^^f^<l  and  which  he 

■  nrn  his  hand  to 
aifacture  of  nur  f  the  hmd  of 

:  had  r  ^  found  a  ma^ 

wooixi  pt^<2t^a:i3iAM  amH^^^fei*  MAkmm^m^ 

fj  v'-.'coT  bs^r-v^i^    ^^iw .,2»f(q^r .fi^id^ ^pal 

n  s    ;  ,.<ti:iii.ACift3jEti&mA^tftiad^^  baJidirixa 

.  ,1  -      ^  . .  .       ,.  t 

Gednex  more  espe 

hat  the  criticism  ^ 
aitogethci^  unwarrar 
tirely  merited 


his  use  of  nature,  .  .  akelock 

•  y  cf  C'-^oT,  wliile  in  the  quaht>^  r-f 
;  h  e  far  ex  lim ,  having  a  greater  g 

jected. The  iate  Ripley  Hitchcock 
Re\'iew  that  '*with  R\ 
-d,  but  in  an  uncertain  way  r 


invest  Kis  color  with  significance'' and '  'tke  metKod  of 
kis  expression  appeals  to  tke  eye  rather  tkan  to  the 
heart,  like  the  works  of  artists  who  use  color  firankly 
for  color's  sake."  The  most  important  consideration 
of  his  work  which  I  find  in  the  reviews  of  the  time  is 
this  fi:om  The  Art  Amateur  of  July  1884  •  ''^s  to 
Messrs.  Ryder  and  Blakelock,who  seem  to  fancy  that 
art  is  enough  and  that  nature  has  no  place  in  the  stui= 
dio,  they  will  have  to  learn  that  if  art  is  the  end  of  the 
painter's  effort,  nature  is  the  material  of  his  study  and 
no  such  complete  divorce  as  Mr.  Ryder  especially 
shows  can  lead  to  a  permanent  position.  The  groove 
is  too  narrow,  even  if  deep,  and  too  commonplace — it 
lacks  originality  utterly.  Blakelock  is  wider  in  his 
range  hut  equally  astray  in  his  direction.  There  is  no 
such  thing  possible  as  paintingmarines  without  know^ 
ing  how  to  paint  the  sea,  nor  landscape  without  know? 
ledge  of  the  facts  of  nature.  If  art  rises  above  the  ac^ 
tuality  of  nature,  it  rarely  goes  contrary  to  it,  and  any 
painter  who  conceives  differently  must  justify  his 
work  hy  exceptional  power  and  great  imagination, 
which  neither  Mr.  Ryder  nor  Mr.  Blakelock  shows. 
They  have  strong  one  sided  feeling  for  color,  but  little 
for  nature,  and  none  for  qualities  equally  as  important 
in  art  as  that  which  they  seek.  They  have  the  redeem? 
ing  element  of  true  poetical  feeling  and  sincerity,  but 
their  art  is  a  mistake  and  a  needless  sacrifice  of  qualities 
better  than  those  they  attain'.'  Had  the  writer  divined 
the  real  depths  of  Ryder's  imaginings,  and  sensed  ac? 
curately  his  exceptional  powers  of  expression,  instead 

17 


of  simply  becoming  critically  conscious  of  such  quali* 
ties  tlirougk  contact  with  works  he  had  either  not  the 
time  or  the  ability  to  appreciate  fully,  he  would  prob* 
ably  have  been  the  first  to  put  into  words  the  final  esti^s 
mate  of  the  painter. 

Daniel  Cottier,  the  well  known  dealer,  may  be  said 
to  have  been  the  first  to  discover  the  pecuHar  charm 
and  value  of  his  art,  and  probably  did  more  than  anys^ 
one  else  to  find  a  market  for  it  and  to  enable  the  artist 
to  earn  the  modest  sum  that  sufficed  for  his  needs.  He 
introduced  his  pictures  to  Sir  W^illiam  Van  Horne, 
who  became  a  real  firiend  of  Ryder's,  and  placed  ex^ 
amples  of  his  work  in  private  collections  in  cities  as 
widely  separated  as  Portland,  Oregon,  and  Edin^ 
burgh,  Scotland. 

Of  his  studio,  the  later  one  in  Fifteenth  Street, 
perhaps  the  most  accurate  as  well  as  reaUstic  descrip? 
tion  is  that  penned  by  a  writer  in  the  New  York  Press 
as  long  ago  as  December,  igo6,  who  says : 

''Two  thirds  of  the  room  was  full,  packed 
solid  with  things  that  had  never  been  moved 
since  they  were  set  there  years  before,  chairs, 
tables,  trunks,  packing  boxes,  picture  frames, 
vast  piles  of  old  magazines  and  newspapers. 
Overhead  long  streamers  of  paper  firom  the 
ceihng  swayed  in  the  air.  All  around  the  edge 
of  the  conglomeration  sat  dishes  on  the  floor,  tea 
cups  with  saucers  over  them,  covered  bowls, 

i8 


RESURRECTION 
COLLECTION  OF  MR.  N.  E.  MONTROSS,  NEW  YORK 
Canvas.    ITYs  inches  high,  14^^  inches  wide. 


THE  FOREST  OF  ARDEN 
COLLECTION  OF  DR.  A.  T.  SANDEN,  NEW  YORK 
Canvas.    19  inches  high,  15  inches  wide.    Signed  lower  right,  Ryder. 


-  ciotis  of  such  quali^ 

:  had  either  -  1  f  he 
Jy,  he  wc  obj^ 
put  in  to  words  the  final  esti* 

idOITDaHHUeaH 
Ji^OY  vA^Hl^  .280HTVIOM  a  .M  .HM  •^O.  MOITDaJ JOO,  .  t 

the  first  to  discover  the  pecuHar  charm 
of  his  art,  and  probably  did  more  than  any^ 
one  else  to  Bud  a  market  for  it  and  to  enable  the  artist 
:  the  modest  sum  that  sufficed  tor  his  r 
iced  his  pictures  to  Sir  V/ilUam  Van  riome, 
^eal  fi?iend  of  Ryder's,  and  placed  ex* 
.  vvork  in  private  collections  it  as 
cd  as  Portland,  Oregon,  aihu  ^Min^ 

Of  his  studio,  the  later  i  ^ak  eet. 


as  long  ago 


since  tl*  c  ]«a€5rA  >3Q;^«8afeoiiiaH?'ar 

vast  pile?;.  /spapers. 
O^^crhead  long  streamers  of  paper  firom  the 
nvayed  in  the  air.  All  around  the  edge 
;  neration  sat  dishes  on  the  floor,  tea 
saucers  over  them,  covered  bowls, 

i8 


crocks,  tin  pails,  oil  cans,  milk  bottles,  boxes  of 
apples  and  packages  of  cereals/' 

''In  one  corner  a  pile  of  empty  cereal  pack? 
ages  mounted  to  tbe  ceiling.  In  another  a  stately- 
tall  cbair  staggered  under  its  accumulated  load. 
A  black  wedding  chest  rich  with  carving  was 
almost  undiscoverable  under  the  odds  and  ends 
that  burdened  it.  A  splendid  Greek  head  stands 
on  the  top  board  with  a  foot  bath  on  one  side  and 
a  box  of  hay  on  the  other.  Against  an  exquisite 
piece  of  portrait  sculpture,  the  work  of  a  master 
hand,  a  friendly  package  of  rice.  The  confusion 
was  unimaginable,  incredible." 

1  Something  to  smile  or  weep  over,  this  studio,  but  it 
suited  an  artist  who  lived  with  the  simplicity  of  the 
prophets,  and  however  bizarre  and  eccentric,  it  pro? 
vided  all  the  comfort  he  required  or  even  cared  about. 
The  outsider  might  see  his  studio  as  the  abode  of  dirt 
and  disorder  where  nothing  was  ever  dusted  or 
cleaned,  but  Ryder  himself,  the  poet  and  dreamer, 
had  a  very  different  idea  of  it  as  may  be  gathered  from 
the  following  description  which  he  wrote  in  1905: 

''I  have  two  windows  in  my  workshop  that 
look  out  upon  an  old  garden  whose  great  trees 
thrust  their  green4aden  branches  over  the  case? 
ment  sills,  filtering  a  network  of  light  and  shad? 
ow  on  the  bare  boards  of  my  floor.  Beyond  the 
low  roof  tops  of  neighboring  houses  sweeps  the 
eternal  firmament  with  its  everchanging  pano? 


I 


9 


rama  of  mystery  and  beauty.  I  would  not  ex^ 
cKange  these  two  windows  for  a  pailace  with 
less  a  vision  than  this  old  garden  with  its  whis^ 
pering  leafage — nature's  tender  gift  to  the  least 
of  her  little  ones/' 

He  felt  that  sumptuous  studios  were  for  business 
men  rather  than  for  artists,  and  chose  an  ordinary 
attic  room  of  an  old  dwelling  house  in  a  forgotten  cors^ 
ner  of  the  city  for  his  'workshop'  as  he  called  it, — a 
place  where  he  might  be  left  alone  to  dream  and  paint 
and  poetize.  Here  he  spent  most  of  his  days,  cooking 
many  ofhis  own  meals  and  sleeping  on  a  rough  pallet. 
Few  found  their  way  to  the  place.  Those  who  did 
often  found  him  in  overalls  with  a  pair  of  old  leather 
or  carpet  slippers  on  his  stockingless  feet,  but  were 
met  by  a  timid  and  yet  mildly  cordial  reception,  for 
his  courtesy  was  genuine  and  extended  as  graciously 
as  though  he  were  living  in  a  palace. 

At  those  rare  times  when  he  invaded  the  purlieus 
of  the  wealthy,  however,  and  was  to  be  seen  in  the 
upper  Fifth  Avenue  section,  he  went  abroad  habitue* 
ally  in  a  silk  hat  and  attire  which,  if  not  elaborate,  at 
least  was  eilways  correct.  His  was  never  a  presence 
to  be  ignored  in  any  place  or  company  and  wherever 
one  might  meet  him,  or  however  brief  the  meeting 
might  be,  his  powerful  personality  seldom  failed  to 
make  a  definite  impression.  There  was  an  old-time  air 
of  refinement  about  his  speech  and  memner,  as  rare  as 
it  was  welcome  in  a  world  too  busy  to  bother  with 


20 


politeness,  and  few  who  came  under  the  spell  of  its 
influence  underestimated  or  ever  forgot  its  peculiar 
charm.  Marsden  Hartley,  who  knew  him  in  his  later 
years,  says : 

''I  have  spent  some  of  the  rarer  and  loveHer 
moments  of  my  experience  with  this  gentlest 
and  sweetest  of  other^world  citizens;  I  have  felt 
with  ever4iving  deHght  the  excessive  loveliness 
of  his  glance  and  of  his  smile  and  heard  that 
music  of  some  far-away  world  which  was  his 
laughter." 

Though  he  lived  the  life  of  a  recluse  and  saw  hut 
few  people,  he  was,  nevertheless,  exceptionally  well 
informed,  with  interests  wide,  and  varied  enough 
to  include  pretty  much  everything  from  the  art  of 
the  early  Italians  down  to  the  latest  sensational  mur? 
der  trial.  On  every  live  topic  of  importance  he  had 
ideas  which  were  occasionally  expressed  with  un* 
usual  force  and  illuminating  lucidity.  As  a  convert 
sationalist,  in  anything  save  the  Kghter  vein  of  easy 
wit  and  commonplace,  he  was  always  sure  of  his 
audience  whether  it  were  an  ignorant  workman  or  a 
group  of  the  most  cultured  of  connoisseurs. 

His  own  opinion  of  an  artist's  needs,  which  he 
found  sufficient  certainly  for  himself,  was  summed 
up  as  follows : 

'"The  artist  needs  hut  a  roof,  a  crust  of  hread 
and  his  easel,  and  all  the  rest  God  gives  him  in 
abundance.  He  must  Kve  to  paint  and  not  paint 


21 


to  live.  He  cannot  he  a  good  fellow ;  he  is  rarely 
a  wealthy  man,  and  upon  the  potboiler  is  in^ 
scribed  the  epitaph  of  his  art/' 

'  'The  artist  should  not  sacrifice  his  ideals  to  a 
landlord  and  a  costly  studio.  A  rain^ tight  roof, 
fi:ugal  living,  a  box  of  colors  and  God's  sunlight 
through  clear  windows  keep  the  soul  attuned 
and  the  body  vigorous  for  one's  daily  work.  The 
artist  should  once  and  forever  emancipate  him* 
self  from  the  bondage  of  appearance  and  the  un* 
pardonable  sin  of  expending  on  ignoble  aims  the 
precious  ointment  that  should  serve  only  to 
nourish  the  lamp  burning  before  the  tabernacle 
ofhis  muse. 

He  once  told  his  sister^in4aw,  Mrs.  E.  N.  Ryder, 
that  ''a  true  artist  never  paints  for  money"  and  added, 
''Enough  to  live  on  is  all  I  care  for." 

So  much  has  been  circulated  about  his  dislike  of  so? 
ciety  and  his  abject  poverty  that  it  is  but  justice  to  the 
memory  of  the  man  that  his  sincere  friendship  for 
those  whom  he  knew  and  trusted,  his  gratitude  for 
even  the  smallest  kindness,  and  the  genuineness  and 
simplicity  of  his  hospitality  should  not  be  forgotten. 
Early  in  his  career  he  gave  a  blacksmith,  who  did  him 
a  small  favor,  one  of  his  best  canvases,  and  for  years 
afterward  one  might  see  it  in  the  smithy's  dingy 
shop.  Such  an  act  must  seem  quixotic  to  many,  but 
Ryder  probably  felt  that  his  work  was  honored  in 
having  a  place  upon  the  honest  toiler's  wall. 


22 


JONAH 

COLLECTION  OF  MR.  JOHN  GELLATLY,  NEW  YORK 
Canvas.  27%  inches  high,  34^  inches  wide.   Signed  lower  left,  A.  P.  Ryder 


.  'h  of  his , 

i  not  sacrifice  his  ideals  to  a 
1  ana    costly  studio.  A  rain^tight  roof, 
:ving,  a  box  of  colors  and  God's  sunlight 
windows  keep  the  soul  attuned 
orousf  '  /         '  .  The 

...e  and  him^^ 
bondage  c  \e  un* 

able  sin  of  c^rc  '  :ciSthe 
precious  ointme  : ve  only  to 

nourish  the  lamp  bi^^^^^       ore  the  tabernacle 

XHdV  Wai*qYJTAJjaO  MHOl  .HM  '^O  MOITOajJOD 

He  once  tc-^.  h,,-;  .  r  Irs.  E.  N,  Kyder, 

that  ^^a  true  a  <or.ey 'and added, 

''Enough  to  live  on  is . 

So  much  has  been  c 
ciety  and  poverty  i 

memory  or  the 
those  whom  he  kii 
even  the  r 


1.  < 


^Hsc-...  .   ...  gave  a  b,.., .v.:.^-  ..idhim 

^•r.  one  of  his  best  canvases,  and  for  years 
•e  might  see  it  in  the  smithy  s  dingy 
h  an  act  must  seem  quixotic  to  many,  but 
'"^ly  Celt  that  his  work  was  honored  in 
hav  ace  upon  the  honest  toiler's  wall. 


22 


A  friend  chanced  upon  him  once  in  a  Fifth  Avenue 
gallery  gravely  expounding  the  beauties  of  the  paintj: 
ings  on  exhibition  to  a  little  girl  of  twelve  years  or  so 
with  the  same  unconscious  dignity  that  he  would 
have  employed  in  the  company  of  the  most  exactmg 
critics.  This  child  was  probably  Mrs.  Fitzpatrick's 
niece  or  Mr.  Harold  Bromhead's  daughter  Elsie, 
whom  he  had  met  in  190 1  and  for  whom  he  had  a  very 
tender  and  beautiful  regard.  He  called  her  a  ''little 
angel  of  a  girl''  and  ''Httle  Elsie  sweetheart"  and  sel^ 
dom  failed  to  remember  her  in  writing  to  her  father  in 
after  years. 

In  April  1885  wrote  to  Mr.  Thomas  B.  Clarke, 
in  reply  to  a  letter  expressing  the  latter's  admiration 
of  his  work : 

''Many  thanks  for  all  those  nice  sentiments. 

"I  find  myself  so  childish  in  a  way;  I  am  so 
upset  with  a  little  appreciation  that  I  can  hardly 
be  quiet  to  acknowledge  the  source. 

"Everybody  is  very  nice  I  must  say :  but  you 
have  such  a  happy  confidence  and  courage  that 
it  counts  tremendously  in  nerving  a  man  and 
trying  out  his  endeavors. 

"I  was  saying  to  Mr.  IngHs  only  the  other  day 
that  you  were  one  of  the  few  who  have  the  pas^ 
sion  of  a  collector ;  that  of  course  brings  its  own 
joy.  But  I  also  wish  you  the  honor  that  belongs 
to  one  who  has  made  such  an  impression  on  the 
art  impulse  of  the  coxmtry . 


^3 


''I  tkink  you  can  Kardly  realize  how  much 
it  means.  For  a  long  time  I  have  observed  a 
marked  change  in  the  attitude  not  only  of  the 
press  hut  also  of  collectors  tov/ard  the  possibili? 
ties  of  something  being  done  here  amongst  us : 
to  you  much  of  the  credit  belongs :  and  I  am  so 
happy  to  be  identified  with  your  mission,  and 
that,  with  the  two  chief  efforts  of  my  ambition. 
I  can  not  but  feel  some  way  that  in  both  the 
Temple  (The  Temple  of  the  Mind)  and  the  Reli^ 
gious  picture  (Christ  Appearing  to  Mary)  I  have 
gone  a  little  higher  up  on  the  mountain  and  can 
see  other  peaks  showing  along  the  horizon ;  and 
although  there  are  conditions  that  make  per^^ 
s  what  I  cannot  do  again,  in  your  selections, 
yet  I  know  you  will  wish  as  I  hope,  to  keep  the 
banner  forward  and  in  other  things  justify  your 
faith  and  appreciation." 

He  lacked  much  of  the  most  rudimentary  knowl^ 
edge  of  life  and  had  a  childlike  faith  in  the  honesty 
and  kindness  of  everyone.  He  would  give  away  a 
treasured  canvas  to  please  a  friend  and  would  just  as 
readily  share  his  last  dollar  or  his  meagre  meal  with  a 
hungry  beggar.  His  friend,  Horatio  Walker,  once 
when  visiting  him  asked  Ryder  if  he  had  any  money, 
to  which  the  painter  repUed  that  ''there  was  some  on  a 
paper  in  his  cupboard,''  where  upon  some  rummaging 
around  therein  he  produced  a  check,  months  old,  re^ 
ceived  in  payment  for  one  of  his  pictures.  It  was  a 

24 


iuch 

ade  not  oi:  i;  ^ 
owarJ  the  possi  - 
f\g  done  here  amongst  us: 
CO  you  much  of  the  credit  belongs :  and  I  am  so 
happy  to  be  identified  with  your  mission,  and 
that,  v/i  th  the  two  chief  efforts  of  my  ambition . 
I  can  not  but  feel  some  way  that  in  both  the 
Temple  (The  Temple  of  )  and  the  ReH^ 

gious  picture  (Christ  / 

gone  a  little  higher  up  on  me  mouiicam  and  can 
see  o:"^         iks  showing  jlong  the  horizon ;  and 

ai  *  ar€^¥&k3^^lons  tK^t 

^^i,  -^i^^^V  wa[i4  .  "^^^  your  . 

^  ■  '  T         *fr5y/-^arit^^#I't  ^<Ti3^rf  iS^'^t  kt»p%j[»^  kcCp  the 

faith  c  , 

He  lacked  ir  ^  r^-  ^ 
edge  1i^^^ 
and 

ired  canvas  to  i  friend  a  just  as 

readily  share  his  I  i ar  or  his  meagre  meal  with  a 
hungry  4is  triend,  Horatio  V/alker,  once 

^visiting  ium  asked  Ryder  if  he  had  any  money, 
i-'  '  ■    I  that ''there  was  some  on  a 

p'  ..^^  L^Cci^a,   vv  nere upon  some  rv 

ai  v  rein  he  produced  a  check,  monti  . 


check  in  four  fi  gures,  but  it  seems  tKat  he  had  no  notion 
of  the  wisdom  of  the  process  of  cashing  it.  With  Mr. 
V/alker's  help  he  managed  to  reaKze  upon  this  check, 
but  with  some  others  he  had  also  tucked  away  he  was 
not  so  fortunate.  Some  time  after  this  occurrence  he 
told  Albert  GroU  that  Walker  was  not  only  a  great 
artist  but  a  great  financier  as  well,  an  obvious  error, 
but  a  pertinent  commentary  upon  his  ingrained  in^ 
ability  to  estimate  correctly  the  significance  of  even 
the  simplest  experience  if  it  involved  material  rather 
than  spiritual  values. 

His  avoidance  of  people  was  not  at  all  because  of 
any  inherent  antipathy  or  of  mere  taciturnity.  It  re^ 
suited  fi?om  a  firm  conviction  that  meeting  others  un* 
fitted  him  for  work.  But  though  he  avoided  meeting 
people  whenever  he  could  without  giving  offence, 
and  never  frequented  crowded  studios  or  attended 
bohemian  parties,  he  was  never  rude,  and  deHghted 
in  the  conversation  of  his  friends.  Charles  Melville 
Dewey,  one  artist  friends,  tells  many  stories  of 

his  shyness  and  says  that,  though  Ryder  firequently 
called  at  his  studio,  he  would  always  telephone  in 
advance  to  make  sure  that  no  one  else  was  there ; 
while  Mr.  Albert  Groll,  another  friend,  says  that 
whenever  he  would  broach  the  matter  of  bringing 
some  friend  with  him  to  meet  Ryder,  the  artist 
would  tell  him  to  come  himself,  that  he  was  always 
welcome,  but  not  to  bring  anyone  else. 

It  was  in  the  later  Fifteenth  Street  studio  that  he 
made  firiends  with  his  neighbors  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fitz? 

25 


patrick  who  watcked  over  him  as  long  as  tkey  re^ 
mained  in  the  City,  caring  for  him  when  he  was  ill 
and  seeing  always  that  he  was  properly  fed.  Mrs. 
Fitzpatrick  had  come  to  know  Ryder  in  her  art  stu? 
dent  days,  and  the  painter  became  interested  in  her 
studies  to  the  extent  of giving  her  occasional  criticisms. 

He  did  not  drink;  his  recreation  was  found  in  the 
public  parks,  where  he  would  sometimes  be  seen 
walking  on  pleasant  days,  or  seated  in  some  secluded 
place,  oblivious  of  passers  by,  and  perhaps  composing 
either  verse  or  picture.  He  had  a  habit,  also,  of  go? 
ing  out  at  dusk  and  taking  long  walks  in  the  coun? 
try,  across  the  river  in  New  Jersey,  from  which  he 
often  would  not  return  until  dawn.  At  such  times 
he  would  sleep  all  the  morning.  Mr.  Shilling  says 
Ryder  once  told  him  that  it  was  on  these  lonely  strolls 
at  night  that  he  'soaked  in  the  moonlight'  which  later 
appeared  in  his  pictures.  He  occasionally  visited  his 
sisterj^inJawin  Falmouth  for  two  or  three  weeks  at  a 
time  and  when  there  spent  most  of  his  time  sketching. 
She  writes  that  he  would  often  get  up  in  the  middle 
of  the  night  and  go  to  the  shore  to  paint  the  moon? 
light  effects  on  the  water. 

He  was  passionately  fond  of  music  and  of  poetry, 
and  it  was  through  his  love  of  the  former  that  ro? 
mance  once  entered  into  his  life  in  connection  with  a 
woman.  Having  moved  into  a  real  studio  at  the  sug? 
gestion  of  a  friend,  and  after  being  quite  miserable  in 
the  midst  of  its  unaccustomed  comfort  for  a  number 
of  days,  he  heeird  the  playing  of  a  violin  next  door. 

26 


MOONLIGHT  ON  THE  SEA 
COLLECTION  OF  LADY  VAN  HORNE,  MONTREAL,  CANADA 
Panel.   Ufg  inches  high,  155^^  inches  wide.   Signed  lower  right,  A.  P  Ryder 
Exhibited  at  Society  American  Artists,  1884. 


LANDSCAPE 

COLLECTION  OF  MISS  MARIAN  Y.  BLOODGOOD,  NEW  YORK 
Canvas.    10  inches  high,  14  inches  wide.    Signed  lower  center,  Ryder. 


/,  Crinnr  a  he  was  ill 

g  always  tt  roperly  fed.  Mrs. 

trick  had  come  r^/  Ryder  in  ker  art  stu^ 

J  oat  days,  ^Ask  iu^rmomHoijmooue  interested  in  her 

.it>bY5^  .1  A  Jffsi?  i3Woi  fe?n^i^   .^foiw  asrioni  gsa^I  .rigiri  aarioni  i^^II    Jans^  * 

>}ait^A  ii6'>i«f»A;>^^^  tound  m  the 

where  he  \v      '  aes  he  seen 

' '  isant  d  -  -  eluded 

place,   of  pasN-  -  ^"^  ■■^ 

1      '  '  rse  or  pictux 

t  dusk  and  t  ue  coun? 

cry;  across  the  river  in  New  Jersey,  from  which  he 
often  would  not  retixrn  until  dawn.  At  such  times 
he  would  sleep  all  the  morning.  Mr.  ShiUing  says 
Ry  ^  him  that  it  was  on  these  lonely  strolls 

-  later 

■      ^  •  ^his 

time  and  when  there  s; 

.  writes  that  he  wc 
of  the 

hght  etiects  on  me  wau:r 

He  wa-  r  l^AOadVlAj  ^  oi  ■r.::f>tCV 


aiM  '5Q  woiToa^JOO 


n  connection  with  a 
Having  mov  ^  ^  ^  ^  -  veal  studio  at  the  sug? 
'''f  1  friend,  an'..  r'-''-'-'  -n^Uc^^^'^^^:'  '*\ 

the  ij>  unaccustomed  ^ 

of  dr:>ys,  he  heard  the  playing  of , 

26 


ft 


Tke  player,  it  seems,  was  a  woman ;  and  it  is  said  that 
one  day,  without  previous  introduction,  he  called 
upon  her  and  asked  her  to  marry  him.  Whether  she 
refused  or  accepted  him  is  not  known  but  some  friends 
of  his  heard  of  his  impetuous  action,  and  one  of  them, 
Daniel  Cottier,  carried  him  off  on  a  trip  to  Europe. 

This  was  probably  the  hurried  visit  made  in  the 
summer  of  1893  when  he  saw  something  of  England, 
Italy,  Spain  and  Holland.  They  were  accompanied 
by  Olin  \Varner,  the  sculptor,  and  his  companions 
were  much  entertained  with  the  meagre  impression 
made  upon  Ryder  by  the  old  masters,  and  his  almost 
complete  insensibility  to  the  charm  of  all  modern 
European  art.  He  disliked  hurry  and  travel  in  con^ 
sequence,  and  it  must  have  been  a  great  relief  to  get 
home  again  to  the  quiet  of  his  own  room. 

The  unfortunate  results  of  vaccination  in  his  youth 
he  never  outlived.  The  vaccine  poisoned  him,  pre^s 
venting  his  pursuing  his  studies  beyond  the  grammar 
school,  and  weakened  his  eyes  in  such  a  way  as  to  in^ 
terfere  at  times  with  his  painting.  As  late  as  1901  he 
wrote  to  his  friend,  Mr.  Harold  W.  Bromhead,  say:: 
ing ;  ''My  eyes  started  on  a  rampage  directly  after  I 
had  written  you,  and  with  me  it  is  a  particularly  dan? 
gerous  matter;  as  if  I  do  not  indulge  them  there  is  a 
great  possibility  of  little  ulcers  coming  on  the  eye 
itself  It  is,  therefore,  not  strange  that  he  should 
have  been  always  an  intermittent  worker,  and  that 
when  he  came  to  have  cu^omers  for  his  canvases  he 
sometimes  kept  them  waiting  months,  or  even  years 


^7 


for  a  pidture.  Mrs.  Ricliard  V/atson  Gilder  is  re^ 
ported  to  have  waited  twenty  years  for  one,  and 
Ryder  once  said  that  another  patron  told  him  he  had 
left  in^rudtions  that  his  funeral  procession  was  to 
stop  at  his  place  to  obtain  a  painting,  and  added, '  'I  told 
him  it  couldn't  go  out  even  then  unless  'twas  done/' 
The  laA  important  canvas  he  completed  ^ood  in  his 
^udio  pradlically  finished  for  at  lea^  ten  years.  The 
artiiA  undoubtedly  keenly  realized  and  hone^ly  re^ 
gretted  the  disappointment  that  his  delays  occasioned 
his  patrons  for  he  wrote  much  to  them  in  explanation 
and  ju^ification,  quoting  in  one  case  these  Unes  from 
Browning : 

Oh,  the  little  more,  and  how  much  it  is ! 
And  the  httle  less;  and  what  worlds  away !  " 

To  another  he  wrote  the  following : 

'  'Have  you  ever  seen  an  inch  worm  crawl  up 
a  leaf  or  twig,  and  there  cUnging  to  the  very  end, 
revolve  in  the  air,  feeling  for  something  to  reach 
something?  That's  like  me.  I  am  trying  to  find 
something  out  there  beyond  the  place  on  which 
I  have  a  footing." 

It  is  this  something  beyond  the  adtual,  which  he 
sometimes  succeeded  in  finding  and  incorporating  into 
his  creations,  that  makes  them  indescribably  beautiful 
and  magical  in  a  sense  that  does  not  correspond  at  all 
with  the  romanticism  of  modern  painting  in  any  of 
its  manife^ations  firom  the  emotion  of  Monticelli  to 
the  sensitiveness  of  V/histler. 


28 


In  1915  Ryder  was  dangerously  ill  and  had  to  he 
taken  to  St.  Vincent's  Hospital.  TKere  he  spent  sev^ 
eral  months  in  slow  recovery,  and  wKen  able  to  go 
out  again  was  persuaded  by  the  Fitzpatricks  to  come  to 
tbem  at  Elmbur st.  Long  Island,  where  they  had  taken 
a  house  some  time  previously.  Here  he  spent  the  laiA 
years  of  his  life  in  the  seclusion  he  so  greatly  desired, 
and  it  was  in  their  house  that  he  died  March  28,  191 7, 
in  his  seventy^first  year. 

In  appearance  he  was  a  great  rugged,  bearded  figure 
with  something  of  the  look,  we  may  suggest,  of one  of 
the  early  apostles.  His  features  were  unusually  and 
nobly  symmetrical  and  he  wore  always  an  expression 
of  kindliness  and  peace.  His  firiend  Mr.  Dewey,  who 
was  made  the  administrator  of  his  modest  estate,  says 
that  4n  death  he  looked  like  some  one  of  the  old  -painU 
ings  of  Christ." 

PART  Two 

IF  Ryder  had  not  been  a  painter  he  might  have 
been  a  poet  or  a  philosopher.  As  it  was  he  wrote 
considerable  verse,  a  certain  portion  of  which  is  pure 
poetry.  Most  of  his  verses  were  made  to  accompany 
pidlures  he  painted  or  to  celebrate  certain  friendships 
which  he  highly  valued.  The  occasional  lines  that  ac? 
quaint  us  with  the  reaKty  of  his  poetic  gift  are  almo^ 
as  lovely  as  they  are  rare,  as  for  instance  those  which 
accompany  his  painting  of  the  Dancing  Dryads: — 

In  the  morning  ashen^hued. 

Came  nymphs  dancing  through  the  wood/' 


29 


Another  single  line  so  nicely  lyrical  that  it  almost 
sings  itself  is: — 

The  cloud  soft  moulded  to  the  cape." 

He  was,  however,  no  more  ma^er  of  the  technic 
of  verse  than  of  the  technic  of  painting,  and  conse:? 
quently  most  of  his  best  stanzas  are  remarkable 
rather  for  the  thought  than  for  the  manner  of  express 
sion.  Hear,  for  instance,  these  lines,  for  his  Toilers  of 
the  Sea,  which  so  vividly  suggeiA  the  rhythmical 
movement  of  the  fishing  craft  homeward  bound,  and 
sailing  with  the  sure  sense  of  freedom  which  we 
sense  in  his  ''shifting  skies'': 

' '  With  the  shifting  skies. 
Over  the  billowing  foam. 
The  hardy  fisher  flies 
To  his  island  home/' 

For  the  Jeanne  d'Arc  he  composed  a  much  longer 
piece,  the  la^  four  Knes  of  which  are  possibly  the  fine^ 
bit  of  real  poetry  he  ever  wrote.  Here  the  expression 
is  more  nearly  worthy  of  the  thought,  and  the  idea  it? 
self  is  entirely  made  up  of  that  beauty  which  is  truth : 

' '  V/ho  knows  what  God  knows? 
His  hand  he  never  shows. 
Yet  miracles  with  less  are  wrought 
Even  with  a  thought." 

The  lAanza  almoi^  equals  one  of  Emerson's  or  of 
Emily  Dickinson's  in  its  incisive  and  illuminating 
^atement  of  a  large  fact. 


30 


THE  FLYING  DUTCHMAN 
COLLECTION  OF  MR.  JOHN  GELLATLY,  NEW  YORK 
Canvas.   H%  inches  high,  17%  inches  wide. 


vei\  no  more  ma^er  of  the 
vwx:  c  ais^i.  oi  the  technic  of  painting,  and 
quently  most    "  ^      best  stanzas  are  remaix.woiw 
rather  for  the  t ■    : than    r      ^  ■    nner  of  expres== 
sion.  Hear,  for  instance,  Uis  Toilers  of 

the  Sea,  which  so  viv  rhythmical 
movement  fishing  a  leward  bound,  and 

{  with  the  sure  sense  ot  treedom  which  we 
^lifting  skies"; 

XHOY  wan  ,YaTAwiJ30  yiHOi  yip^ 

1  he  iiaray  tisher  iiies 
1  home 

i^or  the  Jeanne  a\ 

'  the  la    "  ■ 


-  W... .........  . ...... 

His  hand  he  never  .      .  , 

Yet  miracles  with  less  ari^  wrotTcr^t 

Even  with  a  rhou0hf 

Emi'fv  T*^  its  incisive  and 


30 


This  Jeanne  d'Arc  poem;  The  \Vmd,  whicliaps 
pearedlong  ago  in  the  Century  Magazine  article  on  the 
painter;  one  presented  to  Mr.  N.  E.  Montross,  from 
which  the  single  line  quoted  ahove  was  taken;  and 
some  ''Lines  inspired  hy  a  Gale  at  Yarmouth  Port, 
Mass/'  and  privately  printed,  are  the  mo^  preten? 
tious  of  his  flights  of  song.  The  latter,  while  unsatis^ 
factory  in  its  entirety,  contains  much  that  is  lovely, 
like  his  apostrophe: — 

Grandest  and  most  eloquent  daughters 
Of  fertile  Mother  Earth." 

and  the  passage : — 

How  strong. 

How  heautifril. 

How  wonder  fill  ye  are . 

Yet  ye  talk  only  in  whispers. 

Uttering  sighs  continually 

Like  melancholy  lovers." 

To  use  an  Irishism,  Ryder's  be^  poetry  was  never? 
theless  really  his  prose.  It  is  found  in  paragraphs  like 
that  describing  his  studio,  and  the  following,  that  were 
sent  to  a  young  couple,  newly  married,  both  of  whom 
he  greatly  loved,  together  with  a  note  saying  they 
were  ''appropriate  to  the  devotion  of  each  to  the 
other." 

"They  lived  the  life  of  angels;  for  they  wor? 
shipped  each  other  as  angels;  and  from  their 
coming  ^eps  and  their  going  ^eps,  cirose  the  fra? 

31 


grance  of  flowers  and  they  respired  tlie  aroma  of 
their  odors." 

* '  Each  sought  to  foresail  the  other  in  little  acts 
of  tenderness,  and  with  intuitiveness  of  inspira? 
tion,  which  is  love,  they  penetrated  the  wishes 
of  the  inner  soul  and  delighted  by  the  wonder  of 
their  perceptions." 

'"In  love  morning  succeeds  morning,  one  day 
another  day,  varied  only  hy  increasing  love, 
increasing  tenderness." 

'  'Her  ^eps  were  too  pure  to  touch  the  dui^;  he 
lifted  her  in  and  out  of  conveyances  and  over  oh? 
jedts  that  dei^roy  the  grace  and  harmony  of 
woman's  movements;  and  each  day  she  seemed 
lighter  because  he  grew  Wronger,  breathing  and 
living  in  this  thin  exquisite  atmosphere  of  the 
affedlions." 

It  is  the  description  of  a  relationship  which  one 
might  term  too  beautiful  to  be  true,  and  probably  is  no 
nearer  the  reality  it  idealizes,  than  his  description 
of  his  ^udio  was  a  true  pidture  of  the  adlual  con^ 
fusion  and  squalor  of  that  sorry  place.  The  fadt  is  that 
Ryder  habitually  overlooked  all  the  minutiae  ofintol^ 
erable  and  unpleasant  fadt,  for  vi^as  of  imagined  love^j 
liness  that  have  no  existence  whatever,  except  in  the 
miracles  of  exceptional  circum^ance  and  the  minds 
of  poets. 


32 


ic  other  ixi 
tuitivcness  of  inspira^ 
THaiaMa0#  ^  penetrated  the 

la  iove  mornir  u  one  day 

'  ^  day,  varic  -  . 
ing  tenderness. 

steps  were  toe  ot^?-^-  to  touc 
er  in  and  out  oi  /anccs  and  over 

jed:s  that  dei^oy  the  grace  and  harmony 
woman's  movements;  and  each  day  she  seett 
hghter  because  he  grew  Wronger,  hreathi 
living  in  this  thin  exquisite  atmosphere  oi  aie 
afFedions/' 

It  is  the  de 
might  term  too  ik 
nearer  the  rea; 
of  his  ^udio  w  - 
fusion  and  squalor  of  that  sc 

R^/der  habituaXk*  raerfajikMOOM        linutiae  ofintol? 

liness  tha^^^^MMS^^^^^er,  except  in  the 
miracles  of  exceptional  circum^ance  and  the  minds 
ofpoets. 


PART  THREE 


OF  the  abilities  of  any  arti^  the  eiAimate  of  other 
craftsmen  in  the  same  medium  is  always  inters 
esting.  Marsden  Hartley,  whose  enthusiasm  leads 
him  into  claiming  for  Ryder  precedence  over  all 
American  painters  in  almoiA  everything  except  mas? 
tery  of  his  medium,  is  at  leairt  right  in  thinking  that 
"•he  had  in  him  that  finer  kind  of  reverence  for  the 
element  of  beauty  which  finds  all  things  somehow 
lovely/'  He  was  not,  however,  as  Mr.  Hartley  con? 
tends,  either  the  'fir^'  or  the  'foremo^  of  our  design? 
ers\  nor  was  he  the  'fir^  of  all  creators  of  tragic 
landscape'.  Pradtically  all  of  the  tragedy  one  will  find 
in  Ryder's  landscape  is  involved  in  other  additional 
and  extraneous  matter  which  is  entirely  foreign  to 
landscape  proper,  and  the  tragedy  they  add  is  cer? 
tainly  neither  so  poignant  nor  so  moving  as  that  which 
one  finds  in  far  greater  compositions  such  as  Fuller's 
Quadroon.  In  the  actual  and  exact  sense  in  which 
Homer  Martin  was  a  creator  of  tragic  landscape,  in 
canvases  like  the  W^estchester  Hills  and  the  Ontario 
Sand  Dunes,  Ryder  never  created  anything  of  the 
kind. 

As  a  ma^er  of  arabesque  and  a  creator  of  pattern 
he  succeeded  in  imbuing  his  compositions  with  beau? 
ties  that  are  evident  enough  to  need  no  elucidation,  and 
he  was  enough  of  a  ma^er  of design  to  employ  it  to  ad? 
vantage  in  certain  compositions  in  which  it  is  the  para? 

35 


mount  clement  of  interei^.  Ofhis  drawing  Ryder hims 
self  said,  in  speaking  of  one  of  his  pidtures,  ''Perhaps 
you  wouldn't  say  it  had  much  drawing,  hut  I  think  it 
has  what  you  might  call  an  air  of  drawing/'  It  was  a 
fine  distinction  but  it  was  exadl.  He  seldom  drew 
well,  seldom  bothered  about  drawing,  but  his  pidtures 
have  generally  an  air  of  drawing  which  suffices  to 
make  them  seem  well  drawn.  When  he  chose  to  be, 
however,  he  was  a  very  sensitive  draughtsman,  and 
several  of  his  paintings  of  horses,  sheep  and  other 
animals,  as  well  as  domestic  fowls  and  birds,  are  fine 
enough  to  prove  that  he  possessed  an  unerring  in^indt 
for  the  very  Knes  of  truth  and  the  ability  to  use  it  to 
advantage  in  his  work.  Nowhere  else  in  sculpture 
or  painting  will  one  find  anything  more  tragically 
beautiful  or  more  poignantly  pathetic  than  his  pidlure 
of  a  dead  canary.  It  is  a  more  touching  elegy  upon  a 
dead  song-bird  than  one  may  hope  to  find  in  music  or 
in  poetry  and  it  is  a  matchless  piece  of drawing  as  well. 
The  Landscape  with  Sheep  a  follow  craftsman  once 
hesitated  to  purchase  because  it  seemed  to  him  that  the 
sheep  were  drawn  better  than  Ryder  could  have 
drawn  them. 

His  temperament  translated  every  theme  he  used 
into  a  personal  expression  of  his  mood  or  emotion, 
and  yet  his  landscapes  and  other  pidtures  are  always 
true  enough  to  Hfo  and  to  nature,  and  present  a  suffi* 
cient  semblance  of  reality  to  interpret  his  intention. 
His  world,  however,  is  a  world  of  his  own  making, 
wherein  nature  is  only  the  basic  fadt  out  of  which  is 


34 


WITH  SLOPING  MAST  AND  DIPPING  PROW 
COLLECTION  OF  MR.  GEORGE  S.  PALMER,  NEW  YORK 
Canvas.    12  inches  high,  1154  inches  wide.    Signed  lower  left,  A.  P.  Ryder. 


niour 


is  drawii. 
it  s  pidlur 


in  well  drawn,  WKea  Ke  rbcsc  to  be, 
however,  he  was  a  very  sensitive  rnan,  and 

several  of  his  paintings  of  he  other 
as  domesti 

..=  >ctl^  ' 

- .  /  lines  ....  ^.'Xj  ^.'.j  u... 

-j.^  ill  his  work.  Novv  . Ise  in  sr^?' 
or  painting  will  one  find  anytiiing  more  < 
heautifxii  ov  move  poit:rnantly  pathetic  than  his  picture 

nore  touching  elegy  upon  a 
and  in  music  or 

li*  poetry  andu  well. 


His  temperam^^jg^i^^       every  theme  he  used 

and  yet  h  i^%:v^<s^.i^e4sM;^^^^  are  always 

true  enough  to  lite  and  to  nature,  and  present  a  suffi* 
c  ?>n  t  nee  of  reality  to  interpret  his  intention. 

His  .  uowever,  is  a  W'  ^rld  of  his  own  making, 
w^h€*rem  nature  is  only  the  basic  fad:  out  of  which  is 


evolved  the  wonder,  the  mystery  and  the  witcKery 
of  an  earth  as  far  removed  from  tkis  as  Heaven  is  from 
Hell.  His  art  is  not  to  he  correctly  eirtimated  by  any  of 
tKe  ordinary  tests  tKat  apply  well  enough  to  academic 
work,  nor  is  it  the  product  of  any  school  or  formula, 
for  it  is  individual  in  a  sense  and  to  a  degree  that  is 
hardly  true  of  any  other  painter.  It  must  he  judged  by 
its  effects,  as  it  moves  us,  and  by  one's  reaction  to  its 
pecuhar  enchantment  and  appeal.  AnyKteralor  pro^ 
saic  weighing  ofits  worth  is  useless  because  the  greater 
element  in  it,  the  spiritual  portion,  escapes  evaluation 
in  the  process.  One  may  with  reasonable  accuracy 
determine  the  relative  value  of  design,  of  drawing 
or  of  color  in  an  arti^'s  work  by  established  and  acs 
cepted  bandar ds,  but  the  quality  of  the  imagination 
that  pervades  the  best  of  Ryder's  painting  is  to  be 
appraised  in  no  other  way  than  by  recording  the 
measure  of  one's  response  to  its  inexplicable  beauty. 

In  an  age  of  sordid  realism,  he  created  visions  that 
vied  with  the  fine^  fabrics  of  man's  imagination.  His 
work  has  been  compared  with  that  of  Delacroix,  Mon^ 
ticelli,  Blake,  Whi^ler,  Fuller  and  Blakelock.  It  is 
akin  to  them  all  in  having  certain  points  of  contact  and 
resemblance,  which  nevertheless  in  no  way  involve 
Ryder's  very  individual  quality.  Blake  was  a  con^s 
summate  master  of  linear  design,  for  which  Ryder 
also  had  a  fine  instinct  that  enabled  him  to  inform  sev? 
eral  of  his  canvases  with  an  elemental  rhythm;  other 
pidlures  have  so  nice  a  balance  that  anything  less 
would  have  made  them  merely  geometric.  Whi^js 


35 


ler  he  approached  only  as  they  hoth  found  interns 
est  in  the  poetry  of  Hfe  rather  than  in  the  prose.  \Vith 
George  Fuller  and  with  Blakelock  he  had  much  in 
common.  The  former  generally  speciahzed,  like  Ry:^ 
der,  in  the  expression  of  emotion,  and  hoth  softened 
or  entirely  obscured  the  prosaic  details  of  the  com^ 
positions  they  created.  Blakelock,  with  as  Httle  con? 
cern  for  whatever  is  Kteral  and  exadt  in  landscape, 
and  with  a  corresponding  sensitiveness  toandmastery 
of  enchanting  color,  infilled  into  the  somhre  my:^ery 
of  his  finest  works  a  magic  of  imagination  quite  as 
vivid  and  as  rare  as  that  which  lights  with  splens^ 
dor  the  shadowy  depths  of  many  of  the  best  of 
Ryder's  paintings.  There  are  inescapable  analogies 
between  the  painting  of  Ryder  and  the  poetry  of  Poe 
and  Coleridge .  The  thought  of  all  three  vibrated  with 
a  vivid  perception  of  inevitable  and  impending  trag* 
edy,  and  was  forever  fixed  upon  possibilities  of  ex^ 
perience,  my  Serious  and  heroic,  which  they  were 
uded  firom  ever  reahzing  except  in  the  f-ealm  of 
imagination. 

Ryder  had  certain  definite  opinions  about  painting 
which  will  help  us  in  various  ways  to  realize  his  inten* 
tions,  to  appreciate  his  accompKshment  and  to  better 
understand  his  art.  He  summed  them  up  in  the  follow^ 
ing  paragraphs : 

''The  arti^  should  fear  to  become  the  slave  of 
detail.  He  should  ^rive  to  express  his  thought 
and  not  the  surface  of  it.  V/hat  avails  a  storm 

3^> 


♦ 


cloud  accurate  in  form  and  color  if  the  irtorm  is 
not  therein?  A  daub  of  white  will  serve  as  a  robe 
to  Miranda  if  one  feels  the  shrinking  timidity  of 
the  young  maiden  as  the  heavens  pour  down 
upon  her  their  vials  of  wrath/' 

''It  is  the  first  vision  that  counts.  The  arti^ 
has  only  to  remain  true  to  his  dream  and  it  will 
possess  his  work  in  such  a  manner  that  it  will 
resemble  the  work  of  no  other  man  —  for  no 
two  visions  are  alike,  and  those  who  reach  the 
heights  have  all  toiled  up  the  ^eep  mountains 
by  a  different  route.  To  each  has  been  revealed 
a  different  panorama.'' 

'"Imitation  is  not  inspiration,  and  inspiration 
only  can  give  birth  to  a  work  of  art.  The  lea^ 
of  a  man's  original  emanation  is  better  than  the 
best  of  a  borrowed  thought.  In  pure  perfection 
of  technique,  coloring  and  composition,  the  art 
that  has  already  been  achieved  may  be  imitated, 
but  never  surpassed.  Modern  art  must  strike  out 
fi?om  the  old  and  assert  its  individual  right  to  live 
through  Twentieth  Century  impressionism  and 
interpretation.  The  new  is  not  revealed  to  those 
whose  eyes  are  fastened  in  worship  upon  the  old. 
The  arti^  of  today  mu^  work  with  his  face 
turned  toward  the  dawn,  ^eadfa^ly  beHeving 
that  his  dream  will  come  true  before  the  setting 
sun. 

"The  canvas  I  began  ten  years  ago  I  shall  per^ 
haps  complete  today  or  tomorrow.  It  has  been 


37 


ripening  under  the  sunligKt  of  the  years  that 
come  and  go.  It  is  not  that  a  canvas  should  be 
worked  at.  It  is  a  wise  arti^  who  knows  when 
to  cry  'halt'  in  his  composition,  but  it  should  be 
pondered  over  in  his  heart  and  worked  out  with 
prayer  and  facing." 

''Art  is  long.  The  arti^  mu^  buckle  himself 
with  infinite  patience.  His  ears  mu^  be  deaf  to 
the  clamor  of  his  insi^ent  friends  who  would 
quicken  his  pace.  His  eyes  mu^  see  naught  but 
the  vision  beyond.  He  must  await  the  season  of 
firuitage  without  ha^e,  without  worldly  ambi? 
tions,  without  vexation  of  spirit.  An  inspira? 
tion  is  no  more  than  a  seed  that  must  be  planted 
and  nourished.  It  gives  growth  as  it  grows  to 
the  arti^,  only  as  he  watches  and  waits  with 
his  highe^  effort.'' 

Ryder's  color  and  the  way  in  which  he  used  it  is  a 
calculable  quantity  in  the  genesis  of  his  paintings  ju^ 
as  truly  as  are  either  his  conceptions  or  the  designs  in 
which  they  are  embodied.  One  may  e^imate  quite 
accurately  its  actual  value  in  relation  to  the  total  effect 
produced  by  every  picture  he  painted,  though  of 
course  it  cannot  be  mathematically  ^ated.  W^hether 
the  pidlure  is  thoroughly  synthetic  in  its  subtle  har^^ 
monization  of  delicate  shades  and  values,  or  whether 
it  be  simply  a  ma^erly  piece  of  design,  as  is  sometimes 
the  case,  the  color  itself,  though  in  the  former  ini^ance 
entirely  neutral  in  effedl,  and  in  the  latter  seemingly 

38 


THE  RACE  TRACK 
COLLECTION  OF  DR.  A.  T.  SANDEN,  NEW  YORK 
Canvas.  27f^  inches  high,  35%  inches  wide.   Signed  lower  left,  A.  P.  Ryde 


vvho  knows  ' 
1,  but  it  sKoxiia  t-j 
siiid  worked  out  witK 


D  e  arti^  mu^  buckle  Kimself 

■mrr    ^^^^        r-r:^he  deaf  to 

j  iU..  would 

quicken  bis  pace.  His  eyes  mus(t  se^.  ^  lit  but 
the  vision  be  von  must  await  tbe  season  of 

frui  out  ba^c,  witbcut  worldly  ambi» 

tions,  without  vexation  of  spirit.  An  inspira? 

•  he  artist,  only  as  he  watcn«is  and  waits  with 
■  ^  ^  '  be^  eSort." 

j  color  and  t  >a 
calcuiabxe  quan 
as  truly  < 

which  they  tc 

by  everv  ~  ■  ,  though  of 

it  cannot  be  /  j^ated.  Whether 

•  -  niAure  is  thoroughly  synthetic  in  its  subtle  bar? 

n  of  dehcate  shades  and  values,  or  whether 
■  masterly  piece  of  design,  as  is  sometimes 
'  t,  though  in  the  former  ini^ance 
i^cft,  and  in  the  latter  seer- 

38 


as  negligible  as  that  of  a  silhouette,  is  always  an  appre^ 
ciable  equation  adding  intere^  or  meaning  to  the  com^ 
position.  His  color  simply  as  color  embroiders  his  im? 
aginations  with  rhymes  as  perfedt  as  the  rhythm  of 
his  line,  and  though  a  less  important  contribution  to 
the  poetry  of  his  product  than  the  design,  in  the  sense 
that,  one  may  say,  rhyme  is  not  a  necessary  part  of 
poetry  in  that  some  of  the  noblest  is  written  in  blank 
verse,  it  is  yet  a  means  of  informing  it  with  an  added 
loveliness.  However,  he  had  no  such  facility  for  cor;: 
relating  numerous  colors  in  the  elaboration  of  an  aU 
tractive  composition  as  the  Venetians  had,  or  Monti? 
celli,  or  any  of  the  other  painters  we  think  of  as  great 
colori^s,  and  yet  in  a  very  limited  and  special  sense  he 
was  a  colori^  of  no  little  ability.  He  improvised  upon 
the  few  notes  that  constituted  his  palette  withextraor? 
dinary  taste  and  feeling,  and  few  have  succeeded  as  he 
did  in  elaborating  the  theme  of  a  single  color  in  a  sym? 
phony  of  such  loveliness  as  is  produced  by  some  of 
his  canvases  in  the  key  of  blue,  of  green  or  of  brown. 
In  these  pictures  one  encounters  a  fulness  of  express? 
ion  quite  extraordinary  considering  the  fact  that  it 
is  realized,  through  a  manipulation  of  various  shades 
and  values,  with  the  use  of  practically  a  single  color. 
That  this  method  of  painting  was  his  habit  is  un? 
que^ionably  the  indication  of  a  limitation.  The  few 
subjects  like  The  Flying  Dutchman  and  The  Story 
of  the  Cross,  in  which  color  is  used  more  freely,  must 
be  appraised  simply  as  the  exceptions  that  prove 
the  fact. 


39 


His  finest  paintings  are  evolved  from  Kis  imagina? 
tion,  assi^ed,  however,  by  vivid  memories  of  certain 
actual  aspedls  of  nature  necessary  to  whatever  meas? 
ure  of  illusion  is  required  to  make  them  not  alone 
intelligible  but  superlatively  intriguing  in  their  sen? 
sitive  expression.  They  express,  moreover,  some  of 
the  finer  nuances  of  feeling  and  richer  experiences  of 
emotion  that  are  rarely  met  with  in  modern  art.  He 
never  used  a  model  and  yet  pradlically  every  detail  of 
the  pose  of  his  figures  was  ^udied  from  nature.  He 
relied  wholly  upon  a  habit  of  minute  observation  and 
an  excellent  memory,  and  as  a  result  his  canvases  are 
never  literal  transcripts  of  nature  or  of  Hfe  but  pic* 
tures  that  transcend  reality  in  a  sort  of spiritual  beauty 
glorifying  the  very  truth  of  nature.  Few  of  his  com*: 
positions  were  ever  arranged  in  his  mind  before  they 
were  begun. 

They  grew  out  of  his  feeling  as  he  labored  at  his 
easel,  until  finally  they  satisfied  him  as  expressing,  at 
least,  so  far  as  he  was  capable  of  making  them  express, 
the  idea  or  the  emotion  of  which  they  were  the  visible 
embodiment. 

Ryder's  processes  were  very  my^erious ;  probably 
no  man  can  explain  accurately  his  system  of  paint? 
ing.  The  pidlures  which  we  see  on  the  surface  are  the 
result  of  much  under  painting,  which  was  not  done 
simply  to  attain  pigment  quality.  It  was  often  the 
result  of  laborious  effort  to  achieve  an  effect,  and 
although  the  composition  is  finally  very  simple,  it 
is  the  very  endeavor  to  attain  this  simphcity  that 


40 


PASSING  SONG 
COLLECTION  OF  MRS.  MARJORY  MORTEN,  NEW  YORK 
Panel.    S%  inches  high,  4^8  inches  wide. 


MACBETH 

COLLECTION  OF  MR.  DUNCAN  C.  PHILLIPS,  WASHINGTON,  D.  C. 
Canvas  on  panel.    10  inches  high,  10  inches  wide. 


rv  to  > 

0M08  ovii38A«  J them  not  alone 

sbiw some  ot 
ik:r  naau .  jeling  and  richer  experiences  of 

'   t  are  i  aiely  met  witK  in  •         n  art.  He 
^  I  and  yet  ' '  7  detail  of 


vases  are 

era!  transcripts  ot  nature  or  of  life  but  pic* 
cend  reality  in  a  sort  of  spiritual  beauty 
giontymg  thv^  very  truth  of  nature.  Few  of  bis  corns 
positions  were  ever  arranged  in  his  mind  before  they 

at  his 

thv         r  the  emotion  01 
embodiment. 

ing.  The  picitiires  wiXiw*.  »v   see  on  the  storface  are  the 
'  '   of  much  imder painting,  Vv^hich  was  not  done 
'  't  quality.  It  was  often  the 

t  to  achieve  an  effect,  and 
J  the  composition  is  finally  very  simple,  it 
is  the  very  endeavor  to  attain  this  simplicity  that 


caused  him  to  make  innumerable  ckanges  as  he  ^ro^ 
ceeded  with  tKe  pidture.  He  was  not  methodical  nor 
direct  in  painting,  and  never  seemed  to  be  in  the  least 
concerned  about  the  durability  of  his  pigments  or  his 
pictures. 

He  first  visualized  his  composition  on  the  canvas  or 
panel  with  a  warm  transparent  wash,  producing  the 
larger  masses  of  Hght  and  dark  contra^.  Over  this  the 
pigment  was  applied  with  a  fall,  free  and  impetuous 
brush.  He  now  evidently  proceeded  by  painting  over 
this  before  the  paint  was  thoroughly  dry,  ignoring 
the  resulting  lack  of  material  unity  between  the  first 
and  later  painting.  The  under  paint  was  locked  in 
before  properly  hardened  and  dried;  consequently 
when  the  underpainting  and  the  overpainting  ex? 
panded  or  contracted  unequally,  the  uneven  tension 
manifested  itself  in  cracks,  and  most  of  Ryder's  pic:^ 
tures  have  suffered  in  this  way.  This  cracking  was 
accelerated  by  the  over  use  of  varnish,  oil  and  other 
drying  media,  the  effedt  of  which  was  to  cause  the 
outer  paint  to  dry  and  harden  while  the  unexposed 
under  pigment  was  i^till  soft. 
^  He  worked  principally  in  two  schemes  of  color,  of 
one  the  dominant  hue  is  warm,  similar  to  the  sien? 
na's,  the  other  a  neutral  blue^green  like  neutralized 
prussian  blue.  To  create  the  cooler  scheme  more 
paint  is  employed  and  therefore  the  pigment  is  ap? 
phed  more  heavily.  This  is  very  apparent  in  the 
many  ''moonlight''  pidtures.  After  unity  of  design 
was  realized  in  the  underpainting,  transparent  color 


41 


was  used  as  a  glaze.  As  the  warmer  colors  such  as 
burnt  sienna  are  more  transparent  than  the  cooler 
ones,  this  glaze  was  applied  more  freely  in  the  pidlures 
conceived  in  these  hues. 

The  glaze  was  used  not  only  for  subtle  modulations 
of  tone  but  to  get  deeper  transparency  and  richer  qual* 
ity .  In  several  pidlures  this  transparent  painting  was 
also  employed  to  add  new  elements  or  objects  in  the 
design.  Obviously  in  such  instances  the  method  has 
norelation  to  the  underpainting,  the  form  added  being, 
as  it  were  an  afterthought.  An  example  of  this  curi^ 
ous  procedure  is  to  be  seen  in  the  Moonlight  at  Sea,  in 
the  Evans  Collection  at  W^ashington,  in  which  the 
flying  sail  is  a  mere  wash  and  was  not  at  all  a  part  of 
the  first  conception,  that  is,  the  original  pidlure. 

Many  of  Ryder's  pidlures  painted  in  neutral  blue^ 
green  or  '•'moonlight''  colors  have  become  dark  and 
colorless,  for  he  often  superimposed  dark  over  dark, 
and  the  paint  has  lost  its  original  rich  color  and  value 
for  lack  of  light  hues  underneath.  This  is  apparent  in 
the  large  Macbeth  and  the  Witches  owned  by  Dr. 
Sanden. 

Where  white  is  introduced  in  the  composite  color 
with  the  more  direct  brushing  thus  required,  the  re* 
suit  is  heavy  and  labored,  which  explains  why  Ryder 
is  at  his  be^  in  subjedls  that  do  not  necessitate  reaKstic 
rendering,  and  the  form  is  vague.  He  seldom,  if  ever, 
painted  the  full  sunlight,  preferring  the  twiKght,  the 
shadows  and  the  night. 

He  never  really  did  know  how  to  paint  in  the  acs^ 

42 


COUSTANCE 

COLLECTION  OF  LADY  VAN  HORNE,  MONTREAL,  CANADA 
Canvas.   28  inches  high,  35  inches  wide. 


i 


CHRIST  APPEARING  TO  MARY 
COLLECTION  OF  MR.  JOHN  GELLATLY,  NEW  YORK 
Canvas.    U%  inches  high,  175^  inches  wide.   Signed  lower  left,  Ryder 
Exhibited  at  the  National  Academy,  1888. 


i  more  freely  in  the  pic n  ires 


ver  ,  ^  ^.  amtmgwas 

, ,  oyeA  to  add  new  e  "^^^  objects  in  tKe 

Obviously  in  such  i  method  has 

.to  the  under  t>air>  rini? .  the  form  added  being , 
as  St  were  an  afterthc  curi^ 
ous  proci  to  be  seen  tti  tiie  Moonligirc  at  Sea,  in 

1  ^  Evans  Coiiection  at  Washington,  in  whi^ 
{lying  sail  is  a  mere  wash  an  -  at  all  a  p^a  % 

che first  cr         Ion,  that  is,  u...  .  ^^g^^.  jI  picture. 

Many  ^  ier  s  pid:i:--  ^  ^  -  i*^  neutral  blue^ 
r.-^p>r-,  r.^  ^^r^.-..n:-.r:''n-4f''  rr .  _  ae  dark  and 

over  dark, 

and  the  f  value 
for  lack  of  light  hues  u  in 

the  la  TOci  the 

Sa)  ■ 

.  ,     ,  YHAM  QT  OMiaAa4,qA  T8IHH':; 

,  !         .  .,88p.I  ,^fl(JBfilJ.J.  ^_f|^^^^^fcp(*id;• 

g,  and  the  form  is  vague.  He  seldom,  if  ever, 
A  the  full  sunlight,  preferring  the  twihght,  the 
md  the  iv 

;  now  how  to  paint  in  ibe  ac? 
42 


cepted  sense.  He  used  poor  pigments  and  destructive 
j ;  vehicles  and  as  a  result  much  of  his  old  age  was  given  ^ 
i  ;  up  to  conscientiously  re^oring  the  paintings  of  his 
!/  youth,  while  others  have  been  rescued  from  threat? 
ened  ruin  by  professional  restorers.  His  art,  subjedlive 
and  imaginative,  was  concerned  chiefly  in  realizing 
his  vision  and  in  painting  an  enduring  idea,  unhappily 
regardless  of  an  enduring  pidture.  Mr.  Guarino  once 
asked  Ryder  if  the  cracking  of  his  pidtures  ever  boths: 
ered  him  and  received  the  following  reply;  ''W^hen 
a  thing  has  the  elements  of  beauty  from  egmnmg 
it  cannot  be  destroyed.  Take  for  instance  Greek 
sculpture— the  Venus  de  Milo  I  might  say — ages  and 
men  have  ravaged  it,  its  arms  and  nose  have  been 
broken  off,  but  it  still  remains  a  thing  of  beauty  be? 
cause  beauty  was  a  part  of  it  from  the  beginning.'' 
The  iftatement  might  be  thought  a  piece  of  monu? 
mental  conceit  except  for  the  man,  from  whom  it 
was  no  more  than  a  casual  but  characteristically 
thoughtful  remark.  It  was  not  that  he  ever  slighted 
his  work,  for  he  labored  over  his  smallest  panel  longer 
probably  than  mo^  arti^s  over  a  huge  canvas,  and  no 
one  could  ever  prevail  upon  him  to  hurry  the  com? 
pletion  of  even  the  least  of  his  works.  He  had  a 
faculty  for  handling  pure  color,  and  for  enhancing  its 
value  by  judicious  glazing  or  enameling  until  it  ac? 
quired  a  jewel4ike  brilliancy,  but  he  was  quite  un? 
mindful  of  the  methods  whereby  he  finished  his 
pidlures,  being  always  absorbed  in  the  integrity  ofhis 
compositions  as  expressing  forcibly  and  fully  his 
ideas. 


He  was  always  a  conscientious  worker  and  at  the 
height  of  his  career  in  the  nineties  and  early  ''nine* 
teen  hundreds''  was  always  complaining  of  lack  of 
time,  though  he  labored  both  day  and  night  over  his 
pictures.  To  his  friend,  Mr.  Harold  W.  Bromhead,  of 
the  English  branch  of  the  Cottier  firm,  he  wrote,  on 
August  2nd,  1 901,  ''I  have  been  so  closely  occupied 
here  (the  Fifi:eenth  Street  studio)  and  so  desperate  for 
time.  Fortunately  I  have  fine  energy  just  now  and 
will  be  able  to  work  nights  if  necessary;''  and  on 
March  2nd,  1903,  ''Although  things  have  not  mate^ 
rialized  yet  it  is  not  because  I  have  held  the  honor 
hghtly  (Mr.  Bromhead  had  planned  an  article  on  his 
work),  but  more  because  I  have.  There  have  been 
accidents,  etc.,  and  a  fault,  I  sometimes  think,  the 
smallest  thing  I  do  it  as  if  my  life  depended  on  it;  and 
then  the  great  shadow,  always  of  the  impossible  and 
unobtainable."  Mr.  Bromhead  tells  me  that  it  was 
quite  pathetic  to  see  his  anxiety  to  finish  things,  for 
he  often  got  no  nearer  in  spite  of  desperate  efforts,  and 
adds,  "'It  was  the  strange  self paralysis  of  genius, 
identical  with  that  of  Matthew  Maris,"  with  whose 
works  some  of  Ryder's  have,  indeed,  a  certain 
ity.  V/ith  every  pidlure  he  painted  he  labored  for 
the  fulfilment  of  his  hopes  and  dreams;  and  often,  de^ 
tecting  some  flaw  in  a  canvas  long  after  it  had  left  his 
iftudio,  he  would  get  it  back  and  try  to  persuade  it, 
hke  a  refradtory  child,  into  a  more  engaging  loveKness. 
So  slowly  and  so  carefully  did  he  paint,  indeed,  that 
his  entire  product,  the  labor  of  a  long  lifetime,  for 


44 


he  lived  his  threescore  years  and  ten,  would  not  fill 
a  medium  sized  gallery.  His  fame  re^s  entirely  upon 
his  quality  and  it  is  que^ionahle  if  a  greater  reputa^ 
tion  has  ever  been  earned  with  a  more  modest  display 
of  work.  A  carefiil  inquiry  extending  over  a  number 
of years  has  resulted  in  the  discovery  of  only  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pictures. 

PART  FOUR 

THE  ideas  of  which  Ryder's  pidtures  are  the  visi^ 
ble  expression  need  little  elucidation,  and  yet  I 
cannot  forbear  the  feeling  that  it  is  distinctly  worth 
while  to  translate  them  into  words  so  far  as  I  may.  If 
I  succeed  at  all  in  so  doing,  I  think  some,  at  lea^,  may 
be  enabled  to  appreciate  more  fijilly  their  meaning  and 
this  may  suffice  to  excuse  the  endeavor. 

Pradlically  all  of  the  pidtures  which  remained  in  his 
^udio  at  the  time  ofhis  death  were  unfinishedand  very 
few  of  them  are  of  any  particular  interest  or  import 
tance.  His  later  works  were  mo^ly  of  a  peculiar  wash* 
ed^out  gray  tonality  that  corresponds  with  nothing 
produced  in  his  best  period,  emphasizing  his  weak* 
nesses  as  a  craftsman  rather  than  his  greatness  as  an 
arti^.  Of  the  more  ambitious  of  them.  The  Lorelei  and 
The  Tempest  are  in  no  way  worth  consideration  in 
any  e^imate  ofhis  work.  Of  one  ofhis  earlier  works 
I  have  as  yet  been  unable  to  find  any  trace,  which 
is  all  the  more  regrettable  as  I  cannot  but  believe 
that  it  would  be  likely  to  enhance  our  opinion  ofhis 


45 


ability.  Tke  picture  to  wKich  I  refer  is  the  Nourmas: 
hal  exhibited  at  the  Society  of  American  Arties  in 
1880.  As  it  is  not  described  in  any  of  the  newspaper 
notices  of  the  exhibition  one  can  only  imagine  its 
appearance,  but  the  conclusion  seems  safe  that  when 
the  canvas  reappears,  as  it  probably  will  some  day, 
it  will  be  found  to  belong  with  his  few  ma^erpieces. 

The  la^  large  canvas  that  Ryder  finished.  The 
Racetrack,  which  he  originally  called  The  Reverse,  is 
curiously  one  of  the  very  Hmited  number  in  which 
there  appears  anything  unnecessary  to  the  expression 
of  the  idea.  The  huge  reptile,  writhing  along  con^ 
spicuously  evident  in  the  foreground,  in  no  way 
adds  to  the  tragic  interest  of  the  picture  and  measur:^ 
ably  interferes  with  the  immediate  realization  of 
its  significance.  According  to  Mr.  Walter  Fearon  it 
was  the  late  Benjamin  Altman  who  suggested  the 
subject  to  Ryder,  and  the  arti^  therefore  took  the 
canvas  to  Mr.  Altman  when  he  completed  it  some 
years  later,  only  to  find  that  in  the  meantime  Mr.  Alt? 
man  had  ceased  to  purchase  American  paintings.  It 
finally  became  the  property  of  Dr.  A.  T.  Sanden,  one 
of  the  arti^'s  closed  friends,  who  is  the  present 
owner.  It  is,  so  far  as  I  know,  one  of  only  three  or 
four  of  Ryder's  pictures  of  which  there  is  any  authen? 
tic  record  in  his  own  words.  Of  it  he  wrote : 

''As  to  how  I  came  to  paint  'The  Race  Track' 
— it  was  rather  an  inspirational  matter.  At  this 
time  my  brother  was  the  proprietor  of  the  Hotel 

46 


ARAB  CAMP 

COLLECTION  OF  MR.  FREDERIC  FAIRCHILD  SHERMAN, 

NEW  YORK 
Canvas.   28  inches  high,  24  inches  wide. 


^- 1  m  an  J  ^  .  .l.c 
a  one  can  only  imag.  . 
aj^  inclusion  seems  safe  that  when 

the  c^r^^  irs,  as  it  probably  will  some  day, 

belong  with  bis  few  ma^erpicces. 
i  he  canvas  tbat  Ryder  finished.  The 

Racetxa^  u  1 1  he  originally  called  The  Reverse,  is 

curie  of  the  very  limited  number  in  which 

there  cip  ^  aythingunn  o  the  expression 

of  the  id..  .  ^he  huge  rep  . ,  v  i  uning  along  ■ 
spicuouslv  ennde^l^^/j^  tthfk  H^rer^round.  in  no  v  . 

ably  inteif^:^^^  realization  of 
its  significance.   Acc  'rdiiig  to  Mr,  Walter  Fearon  it 

was  the  late  Benjamin  A  'vho  suggested  the 

subject  to  Ryder,  ar-  k  the 

canvas  to  Mr.  Al  some 
years  later, 
man  ! 
finally 

of  the  a.^^oL;>   C..Oi>Ct^l    ,  ^.-.^   UlC  p^cSC-i^ 

owner.  It  is,  so  far  as  i  i^v  ..  ,  ^  oi  only  three  or 
four  of  Ryder's  pidtures  of  which  there  is  any  auther^  ^ 

f^,r^  ^,>,.^...,^^^t  'f.  t-^-i<?,  n^:.y:.r'>r  Tx/n *'<?'^ C^f  '**'  b "^"^ HTOte I 


k^<si.^K.  i^vi^jiAiw  -i  Ax.e  Race  Track' 
minsn^  ^^^'--■•^  .-••^itter. 


Albert  and  I  frequently  used  to  get  my  meals 
tKere  and  got  acquainted  with  many  of  the  wait? 
ers.  I  got  acquainted  with  one,  but  I  cannot  recall 
his  name,  who  was  unusually  intelligent  and  a 
proficient  waiter  and  I  sometimes  used  to  chat 
with  him.  This  was  about  the  time  the  Dwyer 
brothers  had  their  phenomenal  success  with 
their  ^able  of  race  horses,  as  they  won  about  all 
the  important  events  thr9ughout  the  country 
for  over  three  or  four  years. 

"'In  one  of  my  talks  with  this  waiter  he  men? 
tioned  this  fadt  and  that  this  was  an  easy  way  to 
make  money.  I,  of  course ,  told  him  that  I  did  not 
consider  it  so,  as  there  was  always  'many  a  slip 
between  the  cup  and  the  lip\  and  advised  him  to 
be  careful.  Not  long  after  this,  in  the  month  of 
May,  the  Brooklyn  Handicap  was  run,  and  the 
Dwyer  brothers  had  entered  their  celebrated 
horse,  Hanover  to  win  the  race .  The  day  before 
the  race  I  dropped  into  my  brother's  hotel  and 
had  a  little  chat  with  this  waiter,  and  he  told  me 
that  he  had  saved  up  $$oo  and  that  he  had  placed 
every  penny  of  it  on  Hanover  winning  this  race. 
The  next  day  the  race  was  run,  and  as  racegoers 
will  probablyremember,  Hanover  camein  third. 
I  was  immediately  reminded  that  my  firiend  the 
waiter  had  lost  all  his  money.  That  dwelt  on  my 
mind,  as  for  some  reason  it  impressed  me  very 
much,  so  much  so  that  I  went  around  to  my 
brother's  hotel  for  breakfa^  the  next  morning. 


47 


and  was  sKocked  to  find  my  waiter  fi:iend  had 
shot  himself  the  evening  before.  This  fadl  form^ 
ed  a  cloud  over  my  mind  that  I  could  not  throw 
off,  and  'The  Race  Track'  is  the  result.'' 

The  Arab  Camp,  which  I  had  fhe  recent  good  for? 
tune  to  discover,  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the  to? 
nalpidtures  he  painted  in  what  we  may  term  the  key 
of  a  single  color  and  surely  in  it,  if  anywhere,  one 
will  find  proof  that  he  was  a  great  colori^  in  the  lim? 
ited  sense  I  have  already  indicated.  In  contradis? 
tinction  to  his  general  habit  the  composition  is  static, 
but  in  its  elaboration  there  is  to  a  supreme  degree  all 
of  the  inevitable  poetry  of  Ryder's  great  imagination. 
The  magic  of  his  touch  is  apparent  even  in  its  farther 
depths,  and  over  all  there  is  a  glamour  of  truly  Oriental 
splendour.  Quality,  which  is  a  characteristic  rather 
of  small  than  large  canvases,  is  conspicuously  notice? 
able  here  and  has  much  to  do  with  the  impressive 
grandeur  of  the  scene. 

The  Sheepfold,  one  of  the  most  satisfying  of  his 
smaller  canvases,  is  one  of  the  works  that  went  from 
his  ^udio  to  Scotland  and  has  happily  found  its  way 
back  again  to  his  native  land.  In  it  the  quality  and  the 
intensity  of  the  light  impregnating  the  pervading 
darkness  approximates  closely  the  adtual  effedl  of  the 
moonht  night,  re?creating  in  a  magical  way  the  vibr a? 
ting  mystery  that  con^itutes  its  essential  charm.  The 
huddled  group  of  sheep  in^indtively  drawn  together 
by  the  dusk,  and  the  lighted  window  of  the  farmhouse 

48 


LANDSCAPE  WITH  SHEEP 
COLLECTION  OF  MR.  FREDERIC  FAIRCHILD  SHERMAN. 

NEW  YORK 

Panel.    73/4  inches  high,  97/8  inches  wide.    Signed  lower  right,  Ryder. 


THE  SHEEPFOLD 
MUSEUM  OF  THE  BROOKLYN  INSTITUTE, 
BROOKLYN,  NEW  YORK 
Canvas.    Sy^  inches  high,  inches  wide.  Signed. 


and  wa  .  ,  waiter  tri  '   *  ^^d 

shothimse:  g  before.  Thisf^ 

ed  a  cloud  over  my  mind  that  I  could  not  throw 

cC  and  'The  Race  IxMck'  is  the  result/' 
qaaH2  htiw  aqAoaawAJ 

.MAMHglji  j^iH3aiAU  ajKaa^Ht-  MUJiO:noi':rj:xmiJlDgood  for^ 
-  .     f  V .  di< CO ver  ?f , o  n  v^.^^^^ . « c  most  beautiful  of  the  to? 
''^":t lives  he  painted  m  what  we  may  term  the  key 
d  surely  in  it,  if  anywhere,  one 
r:ooi  that  he  was  a  great  colori'^  in  the  Hm^ 
I  i>i^u^  I  have  already  indicated.  In  contradis? 
n  to  his  general  habit  the  composidon  is  static, 
Li  its  elaboration  there  is  to  a  supreme  degree  all 
'nevitable  poetry  of  Ryder  s  great  imagination, 
"u:  of  his  touch  is  apparent  even  in  its  farther 
V.  .  .       d  over  all  there  is  a  glamoixr  of  truly  Oriental 
solendour.  QuaUty,  which  is  a  characteristic  rather 
mall  than  larae  canvases,  is  conspicuously  notice? 

nuch  to  dc  with  the  impressive 
ut  ot  the  scene  . 
The  Sheepfold,  one  of  tl  ^js 
viJler  canvases,  is  or  Ivom 
his^udioto%^^^^2^^j^,,  -^way 
bacixiOTTaHi  MYaHooaa  3ht  uo  Mamu^^^i^^yi^i^dthe 
-  V  ./^a^  TOi^W^^^   -rw  the  pervading 
t  roximates  closely  ihc  actual  eitect  or  the 
.  . .  ^  ac,  re-creating  in  a  magical  way  the  vibra? 
n  mystery  that  constitutes  its  essential  charm.  The 
d  group  of  sheep  ini^ndrively  drawn  together 
by  the  dusk,  and  the  lighted  window  of  the  farmhouse 

48 


nearby,  witK  its  suggestion  of  the  family  gathered 
therein,  lend  the  picture  a  definite  human  intere^  and 
a  meaning  that  brings  its  beauty  home  to  all. 

Of  his  religious  subjects.  The  Resurredtion  has  little 
or  nothing  in  common  with  any  of  the  innumerable 
early  pictures  of  the  scene  and  yet  it  surpasses  most, 
if  not  all  of  them,  in  an  elevated  mysticism  unusual 
even  among  the  ma^erpieces  of  religious  art.  He  has 
painted  the  Christ  as  a  suspended  spirit,  visible  in 
human  form  and  clothed  in  the  cerements  of  the 
grave,  the  very  color  of  the  flesh  intensifying  the  im? 
pression  of  one  newly  risen  from  the  dead.  The  old 
makers  pidlured  a  living  Presence,  the  measurable 
weight  of  which  is  supported  by  feet  set  firmly  upon 
the  earth.  Ryder  has  succeeded  in  giving  more  con* 
viction,  at  least  from  a  modern  view^point,  to  the 
spiritual  import  of  the  incident.  The  Jonah,  which 
has  no  real  counterpart  in  the  art  of  any  time  or 
place,  is  a  pidture  that  belongs  with  the  greater  of 
those  that  have  been  inspired  by  Scripture.  It  is  a 
tremendous  tour  de  force  in  which  the  emotion 
subject  transfigures  the  representation  and  pervades 
the  pidture  with  a  sense  of  the  immanent  miracle. 
The  composition  is,  indeed,  in  the  grand  manner,  and 
the  sense  in  which  it  is  deliberately  con^rudted  to  ex^ 
press  the  idea  is  perfedlly  evident.  To  say  that  the 
wonder  of  the  incident  emerges  from  the  canvas  is  to 
admit  its  equality  with  the  greater  of  religious  repj^ 
resentations  in  pidtorial  art.  Ryder  wrote  to  Thomas 
B.  Clarke  in  April,  1885,  while  he  was  working 


49 


on  the  Jonah,  saying,  ''Many  thanks  for  your  kind 
remembrance  of  the  Temple  of  the  Mind.  So  sorry 
not  to  have  seen  you. .  .1  am  in  ec^asies  over  my  Jonah; 
such  a  lovely  turmoil  ofboiling  water  and  everything 
. .  .Ifl  get  the  scheme  of color  that  haunts  me  I  think  you 
will  be  dehghted  with  it.''  He  probably  did  just  that, 
and  we  may  assume  that  Mr.  Clarke  Was  delighted, 
for  it  hung  for  several  years  in  his  great  collection  of 
American  paintings,  which,  at  one  time  or  another, 
included  almo^  all  of  the  canvases  that  are  now  con^ 
sidered  the  ma^er  pieces  of  nineteenth  century  Amer? 
rican  painting.  The  Story  of  the  Cross  is  another  Bib^ 
heal  picture  I  would  include  among  his  important 
works.  It  is  one  of  the  few  of  his  canvases  in  which 
color  is  noticeably  present  and  it  is  one  ot  his  lovelieiA 
conceptions.  The  scene  resembles  more  the  composi^: 
tions  familiar  to  students  of  Italian  painting  in  the 
Renaissance,  and  yet  the  picture  itself  is  a  very 
individual  and  charmingly  sympathetic  representa^ 
tion  from  which  one  gathers  a  new  under^anding  of 
the  poetry  of  the  Gospels.  The  Christ  appearing  to 
Mary  is  also  very  rich  in  color  and  full  of  sensible 
suggestion  of  a  very  tender  emotion. 

The  finest  of  his  many  marines  is  perhaps  the 
small  canvas  in  Mr.  Cudney's  possession  called  A  Sea 
Tragedy;  the  most  beautiful.  The  Flying  Dutchman, 
owned  by  Mr.  Gellatly.  The  former  is  the  greater 
picture,  I  should  say,  inasmuch  as  it  is  less  involved 
and  more  truly  and  eloquently  expressive.  It  has 
an  appearance  of  rare  simpKcity  and  impresses  one 

50 


THE  DEAD  BIRD 
COLLECTION  OF  MR.  N.  E.  MONTROSS,  NEW  YORK 
Panel.    4^  inches  high,  9^  inches  wide. 


THE  BARNYARD 
COLLECTION  OF  MR.  A.  H.  COSDEN, 
SOUTHOLD,  LONG  ISLAND,  N.  Y. 
Canvas,  11%  inches  high,  12  inches  wide. 


on  the  Jonah,  saying,  "Many  thanks  for  your  kind 
remexnbrance  of  t  he  Teniple  of  the  Mind.  So  sorty 

■  •     ^"    heme  oi  color  that  haunts.meltkinkyou 
V/  ed  with  it.''  He  probably  did  just  tKat, 

and  we  may  assume  that  Mr.  Clarke  Was  deKgKted, 
for  it  Kung  for  several  years  in  Kis  great  coUedlion  of 
American  paintings,  wKicK,  at  one  time  or  anotKer, 
no^^t  all  of  the  canvases  that  are  now  con^j 
^      pieces  of  ninetc  ' 

iheStory  of  the  C?^  u^v,! 
would  include  among  his  impor..... 
one  of  the  few  of  Kis  canvases  in  which 
IS  noticeably  present  and  it  is  one  ot  his  loveheit>t 
conceptions.  The  scene  resembles  more  the  composi^ 
tions  familiar  to  students  of  Italian  painting  in  the 
Rcnaissanc         i  yet  the  pictxire  itself  is  a  very 
individual  ana  v.^ 

tion  from  which  ojIv  a 
the  poetry  of  the  H  >  . 

The  ^^^"^  m^  Wlf'  M:me^is  perhaps  the 
small  canvas  in  Mr.  Gudney's  possession  called  A  Sea 
the  most  beautiful.  The  Flying  Dutchman, 
.  Gellatiy.  The  former  is  the  greater 
pictuiv-,  i  saooid  say,  inasmuch  as  it  is  less  involved 
and  more  truly  and  eloquently  expressive.  It  has 
Dpcarancc    '  impUcity  and  impresses 


50 


very  forcibly  with  a  full  realization  of tke  beauty  of tbe 
moonlit  sea.  The  latter,  lovely  in  its  coloring  andsensi? 
tiveinits  interpretation,  is,  after  all,  limited  in  mean? 
ing  by  a  sometimes  unconscious  but  always  inevitable 
m^indt  on  the  part  of  the  spectator  to  measure  its  im^ 
portance  simply  as  an  illu^ration  for  a  famous  poem. 
It  is  a  little  more  than  that,  however,  and  deserves  to 
be  considered  on  its  own  merits  as  a  pidture.  Such 
subtleties  of  value,  such  myi^eries  of  shadow  and  of 
light  as  he  summons  to  make  the  phantom  ship  more 
moving  as  an  imaginative  creation,  will  be  found  in 
few  paintings.  Its  color  alone  is  a  fine  achievement. 
A  vivid  portrayal  of  the  turmoil  of  a  ^orm  at  sea,  it  is 
obviously  a  work  in  which  various  elements  of  design 
such  as  rhythm,  balance  and  arabesque  are  readily 
recognized  as  responsible  in  large  measure  for  its 
emphasis  and  authority.  The  large  Moonlight  on  the 
Sea  in  the  Van  Horne  collection  is  another  canvas 
that  should  receive  mention  here.  It  is  a  composition 
of  unusual  intereirt  and  power,  in  which  adlion  is  ably 
attained  by  a  truly  rhythmic  balance  of masses  of  light 
and  dark.  The  simple  expedient  of  representing  the 
yawl  on  even  keel  in  the  mid^  of  a  boi^erous  sea  pro? 
vides  a  convincing  symbol  of  lability  and  safety. 

The  originality  of  Ryder's  art  is  nowhere  more  ap^s 
parent  than  in  his  small  marines.  Structurally  and 
technically  they  represent  him  at  his  best.  The  balance 
of  the  masses,  the  rhythm  of  line,  the  quality  of  color 
and  the  handling  of  light  and  shadow,  all  combine  to 
create  a  vivid  reality.  They  have  practically  no  actual 

51 


semblance  of  truth,  however,  being  deliberate  invent 
tions  incorporating  in  designs  of  studied  simplicity- 
ideas  of  movement  and  space,  colored  so  as  to  suggest 
an  enveloping  mystery  and  lit  by  a  profound  imagina? 
tion  with  a  curious  and  portentous  glamour. 

Rocky  coast  and  rounded  hills,  clouds,  the  restless 
tide,  ships — all  that  is  obvious— exists  in  Ryder's  pic* 
tures  only  as  form;  form,  however,  that  suffices  to  sig* 
nify  fact.  Having  established  an  intelligible  image  of 
reahty  he  then  resorts  to  an  unusual  disposition  of 
light  and  shade,  emphasized  by  a  singular  though  ex* 
tremely  simple  color  scheme,  worked  out  with  curious 
and  effective  variations  of  values,  which  finally  in* 
vests  his  pictures  with  indescribable  suggestions  of  the 
infinite  wonder  and  majesty  of  the  deep. 

Practically  all  of  his  pictures  of  this  kind  have  much 
in  common;  a  curious  cloud  formation  with  slight  vari* 
ation  is  found  in  most  of  them  and  is  the  dominant  fac* 
tor  in  their  design,  a  certain  form  of  boat  is  found  in 
many,  and  not  a  few  present  similar  forms  of  stony 
promontory  or  quiet  cove.  He  often  succeeded  in 
combining  elements  firom  two  or  three  canvases  in  a 
picture  in  such  a  way  as  to  produce  a  new  and  seem* 
ingly  original  work.  These  works,  however  new,  in 
the  sense  that  they  affected  one  differently  as  he  im* 
provised,  were  really  variations  upon  a  single  theme. 
Even  the  color  which  is  so  considerable  an  element  in 
their  effectiveness  is  similar  in  most  of  them,  and  the 
fact  that  in  quality  and  intensity  it  is  almost  unique  in 

5^ 


painting  accounts,  unquestionably,  as  much  as  any* 
thing  else  for  their  powerful  appeal. 

Out  of  the  austere  grandeur  of  The  Sea  owned  by 
Mr.  Gellatly ;  the  portentous  sky  of  Mr.  Montross's 
Marine ;  the  moonlight  of  the  picture  in  the  National 
Gallery  at  W^ashington  and  the  boat  in  the  Toilers  of 
the  Sea  at  the  MetropoKtan  Museum  he  constructed 
a  moving  epic  like  the  Sea  Tragedy.  Obviously  un* 
real  in  itself,  it  embodies  the  very  reality  of the  tragedy 
of  the  sea,  and  by  appealing  to  the  imagination  rather 
than  the  intellect  releases  subconscious  presentiments 
of  indescribable  verisimilitude  that  are  no  more  truth? 
ful  mental  images  of  remembered  scenes  than  the 
painting  itself  is  a  faithful  transcript  of  nature.  The 
picture  presents  the  bare  outlines  of  fact,  with  all  the 
natural  and  customary  qualifications  of  momentary 
beauty  omitted,  and  thus  emphasizes  the  constant  and 
incalculable  force  and  magnitude  of  the  subject. 

Of  the  many  canvases  that  testify  to  his  power  as 
a  painter  of  this  type  of  picture,  the  Moonlit  Cove  has 
long  been  highly  esteemed.  A  small  canvas,  it  seems 
large  because  the  composition  is  confined  to  a  few 
simple  forms.  Their  disposition  is  such  as  to  throw  a 
shadow  over  the  boat  upon  the  beach  and  the  moon* 
light  envelops  the  whole  scene  in  mystery.  With 
sHght  alteration  he  used  much  the  same  design  in  a 
number  of  other  works.  Sometimes  the  composition 
is  reversed  but  invariably  the  theme  is  the  same.  It  is 
a  reahzation  in  color  of  the  mystery  and  the  poetry  of 
the  night.  In  the  terms  of  music,  each  and  every  one 


53 


of  tkese  variations  upon  the  tkeme  is  a  singularly  beau? 
tiful  and  satisfying  poem  in  itself.  One  of  them,  re? 
cently  discovered,  is  in  some  ways  more  perfect  than 
the  picture  already  mentioned  in  its  exploitation  of  the 
same  artistic  purpose.  In  this  painting, The \Vreck, 
the  bare  mast  and  bowsprit  of  the  stranded  schooner 
break  the  silhouette  of  the  cUff  against  the  sky  and 
the  cavernous  mouth  of  the  cave  at  the  right  relieves 
again  the  sKghtly  monotonous  effect  of  that  mass  as  it 
appears  in  the  former  work.  Though  but  details,  these 
deviations  add  something  of variety  to  the  composition 
and  seemingly  intensify  the  idea  of  mystery  which  is 
the  dominant  interest  in  all  of  these  paintings.  Fur? 
thermore,  the  color  is  more  skilfully  handled,  so  as  to 
discover  such  suggestive  forms  as  the  shadow  of  the 
boat,  the  mouth  of  the  cave  and  the  inequalities  of  the 
rough  mass  of  the  projecting  clifF. 

Another  marine  of  peculiar  interest  is  called  Home? 
ward  Bound.  It  is  the  picture  painted  by  the  artist  for 
his  friend  Capt.  John  Robinson  of  the  Atlantic  Trans? 
port  Line,  now  retired,  upon  whose  ship,  the  Minomi? 
nee,  Ryder  crossed  the  Atlantic  in  the  early  'nineties.' 
A  work  of  about  1893  or  '94,  in  mood  and  technic  it 
varies  considerably  from  other  works  from  his  hand. 
It  is  more  nearly  realistic  than  his  marines  generally 
are  and  less  dependent  upon  the  imaginative  vigor  of  a 
peculiarly  personal  conception.  It  retains  something 
of  the  actual  loveliness  of  the  sea  and  more  than  is 
usual  in  his  work  of  the  intimate  human  interest  that 
is  focused  in  a  solitary  boat.  It  was  intended  to  repre? 


$4 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  AUTUMN 
COLLECTION  OF  MR.  FREDERIC  FAIRCHILD  SHERMAN, 

NEW  YORK 

Panel.  8  7/16  inches  high,  5%  inches  wide.   Signed  lower  left,  A.  P.  Ryder. 
Painted  for  Mr.  Stephen  G.  Putnam,  American  wood-engraver,  1875. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  SPRING 
PROPERTY  OF  A  PRIVATE  COLLECTOR,  NEW  YORK 
Canvas.    12^  inches  high,  17^  inches  wide.  (Sight.) 


of thcsevariations uoon  •  n,e  tl--.;-^-ct£  .i^ingaitiny  ucuu^ 
. /-  1      ^        r  . ' ,  ^'^.^TUA      Tismz        ^.f  f  Kern  re- 
niu-t  a|;f/rtvrH3H^  djmasriA  DiHaaaH-k  .hm  'to  iioiTp^giiTQa 

soi-ne  arast-r  purpose,  ir.  this  vvrrgcS:, 
4,  0  '^arc  mast  and  bowsprit  of  the  stranded  schooner 
the  silhouette  of  the  cliff  against  the  sky  and 
the  cavernous  mouth  of  the  cave  at  the  right  relieves 
again  the  slightly  monotonous  effect  of  that  mass  as  it 
appears  in  the  former  work  Thou,  '  rlctails,  these 
deviations  add  something  of  variety  .  composition 
and  seemingly  intensify  the  idea  of  mystery  which  is 
the  dominant  interest  in  all  of  these  paintings.  Fur* 
tliermore,  the  color  is  more  skilfully  handled,  so  as  to 
discover  such  suggestive  forms  as  the  shadow  of  the 
boat,  the  mouth  of  the  cave  and  the  inequaHties  of  the 
rough  mass  of  the  projecting  cliff. 

Another  marine  ot  pecul  t  is  called  Hcme^ 

ward  Be  by  the  artist  for 

his  menu  ..  nj.^.  ;  owxHqg  -^o  nam  sht  ,  \  /r-  ' 
port  H^TnWH  '.aoToa japa  at Avia«i  a  ■ib-  tT5ia^S<i 
nee,  Ry^M^^^?le'o*?fe'i'*i^fc»*w<  »rf9«iL.«url5<i^wt»&c'ties/ 
A  work  of  about  1893  or  94,  in  mood  and  technic  it 
varies  considerably  from  other  works  from  his  hand. 
It  is  more  nearly  reaHstic  than  his  marines  generally 
are  and  less  dependent  upon  the  imaginative  vigor  of  a 
peculiarly  personal  conception.  It  retains  something 
of  the  actual  loveliness  of  the  sea  and  more  than  is 
usual  in  his  work  of  the  intimate  human  interest  that 
is  focused  in  a  solitary  boat.  It  was  intended  to  reprc- 

54 


sent  tke  return  to  port  of  a  fiskmg  craft  laden  with  tke 
'catch'  and  it  is  not  unsuccessful  in  the  prose  of  that 
intention,  however  more  engaging  it  is  in  the  poetry 
of  its  blending  of  the  colors  of  the  sea  and  the  sky  with 
the  rhythm  of  the  clouds,  the  waves  and  the  move^ 
ment  of  the  home^bound  yawl.  It  is  very  colorful  in 
a  subdued  sense  and  has  none  of  the  forbidding  darkj^ 
ness  of  most  of  the  moonlit  sea  pictures.  Personally 
I  find  it  the  most  enchanting  of  them  all. 

Of  the  two  Pegasus  pidtures  my  preference  is  for 
the  one  belonging  to  the  Worcester  Art  Museum,  in 
which  the  figure  rides  his  white  winged  horse  out  of 
the  radiant  heavens  right  over  the  edge  of  the  world, 
bringing  back  to  us  today  the  message  of  the  gods. 
What  matters  it  if  the  winged  horse  is  badly  drawn? 
The  spindly  legs  that  would  scarcely  carry  its  weight 
subconsciously  emphasize  the  power  of  those  mighty 
wings  outspread.  In  the  other  canvas  Pegasus  isleavrs 
ing  this  world  for  starry  pastures  in  fairy  lands  un? 
known,  but  with  a  sensible  lack  of  the  airy  ease  of  his 
arrival  in  the  former  pidture. 

The  small  Macbeth  belonging  to  Duncan  Phillips  is 
filled  with  an  atmosphere  unreal  and  quite  uncanny, 
the  witches  all  but  hidden  in  the  fearsome  shadows  of 
the  night.  There  is  more  light  in  the  large  pidlure 
owned  by  Dr.  Sanden  and  the  fuller  definition  of  detail 
diminishes  the  sense  of  the  presence  of  Fate  which 
makes  the  smaller  canvas  such  an  awesome  interpret 
tation  of  supernatural  potency. 

In  the  Autumn  exhibition  of  the  National  Academy 


55 


of  design  m  1887  Ryder  sKowed  a  picture  of  Ophelia 
of  whicli  I  could  find  no  trace  wKen  I  began  writing 
this  book.  In  the  spring  of  last  year,  a  firiend  to  whom 
I  happened  to  mention  the  matter  was  reminded  of 
such  a  picture,  with  which  she  had  been  familiar 
some  years  ago,  and  offered  to  try  to  get  it  for  me  to 
see.  Only  recently  I  had  the  pleasure  of  acquiring  it, 
through  her,  firom  the  former  owner.  It  is  a  sym^: 
phony  in  golden  browns  and  yellows,  relieved  by 
notes  of  rose  and  white  and  green  as  they  occur 
in  the  wreath  of  flowers  about  Ophelia's  head  and 
the  fohage  and  blossoms  lying  in  her  lap.  It  is  such  a 
touching,  such  a  tender  rendering  of  this  supremely 
tragic  figure  as  one  may  not  hope  to  find  the  equal  of 
save  in  Shakespere's  text  itself.  Its  persuasive  beauty 
seems  like  a  reincarnation  of  all  that  was  best  in  the 
finest  interpretations  of  the  role  which  one  has  wits: 
nessed  upon  the  stage. 

Siegfried  and  the  Rhine  Maidens  and  the  Dancing 
Dryads  are  the  most  rhythmical  and  musical  of  his 
works,  the  former  dramatic  and  the  latter  lyric  in  in^ 
tention.  Both  are  color  harmonies  of  singular  charm, 
though  literally  speaking  hardly  more  than  a  single 
color  chord  suffices  for  that  approximation  of  melody 
which  in  each  is  palpably  the  basic  element  of  beauty . 

The  Passing  Song  is  a  little  pidture  of  persuasive 
loveliness.  It  is  one  of  the  moift  romantic  as  well  as 
one  of  the  mo  A  colorful  ofhis  creations.  The  verses  he 
wrote  to  go  with  it,  which  follow,  are  a  more  illumi? 
nating  commentary  on  its  meaning  than  I  could  hope 
to  improvise: 

5^> 


SMUGGLERS'  LANDING  PLACE 
COLLECTION  OF  MR.  DUNCAN  C.  PHILLIPS,  WASHINGTON,  D.  C. 
Panel.    12^  inches  high,  13^  inches  wide.    Signed  lower  left,  A.  P.  Ryder. 


COLLECTION  OF  MR.  RALPH  CUDNEY,  CHICAGO,  ILL. 


Panel.    12^  inches  high,  lOVz  inches  wide.    Signed  on  tombstone,  Ryder. 


}  N'l  K  R\'  A  riON 


.0,a,MOTDPirH8AW  ,8qiJ  JIH9  .0  VLADMUa  MM  TO  1401X03X10 

•Dor,  jv/nn  Fiug- 


;tate  for 
.1  his  ov 
in  th-  ^ 
the  Hugg  ire. 

'  ...piaicCOn- 

lis  arms  com- 
witn  the  Huggins  arms,  for  he 


:  Colonel  de  \ 
now  to  be  sold  as  a  complete  unit,  an 


of  r^t^C^hristirin^Church  in  Norther, 


-X.  ^  ver- 

^  ,^ai^.9^,A0l^^^^^^  H^JAS^  ,H,M  ^p-  WOIXP^JJQQnt  structyre.  of  the  I 


i{uggi;i:i         Visuor  vvui  be  al.'it;  to 
"  Thiv       throughout  the  conn 
ches,  cathedr. ; 
ady  to  all  inter  s; 
ure  and  ornament 
^'ird. exhibition  v 
•osition,  as  nc\ 
■  and  portrait 
..  i.     ,;  td.  Cities  an. 

aith  introduL 
iit.iont  prints  and  pani 


rst  and  torerr; 
'  Olaf  exp. 
n  Cath, 


onscien- 


By  a  deep  flowing  river. 

There  is  a  maiden  pale, 
And  her  ruby  lips  quiver 

A  song  on  tlie  gale. 

Adown  the  same  river, 

A  youth  floats  along; 
And  the  lilting  waves  shiver 

As  he  echoes  her  song. 

Nearer,  still  nearer. 

His  frail  bark  doth  glide. 

^^ill  he  shape  his  course  to  her 
And  remain  by  her  side? 

Alas,  there's  no  rudder 
To  the  ship  that  he  sails. 

The  maiden  doth  shudder — 
Blow  seaward  the  gales. 

Sweeter  and  fainter 

The  song  cometh  back; 
And  her  mind  it  will  darken 

And  her  heart  it  will  rack. 

And  then  she'll  grow  paler 
V/ith  this  fond  memory; 

Paler  and  paler 

And  then  she  will  die.'' 

In  the  Fore^  of  Arden  one  finds  the  significance  of 
the  painting  in  the  broken  limb  of  a  blasted  tree  repeats^ 
ing  the  gesture  of  the  cavalier  who  woos  his  lady  in  the 
foreground,  and  dwells  upon  the  beauty  of  Love's 


57 


demesne  wKile  tkat  dumb  finger  of  earth's  dead  points 
upward  as  if  to  recall  the  lading  loveliness  of  Heaven. 

Such  works  as  the  Gay  Head  sketch  and  the  vari? 
ous  Barnyard  pidtures  are  representative  of  what  he 
could  accomplish  in  the  way  of  realism.  It  is  not,  of 
course,  the  rough  realism  of  painting  divorced  fi?om 
the  subtleties  that  are  as  the  breath  of  life  to  pidtorial 
art.  His  interpretation  of  realities  is  conspicuously 
associated  with  a  certain  fineness  of  feeling  that  saves 
the  mo^  literal  of  his  characterizations  firom  the  banal? 
ity  of  the  commonplace. 

The  fine^  of  his  landscapes  is  probably  that  owned 
by  Miss  Bloodgood,  who  knew  the  artii^  and  chose  it 
firom  several  canvases  in  his  ^udio  at  the  time  itpass? 
ed  into  her  possession.  He  kept  it  as  usual  for  a  few 
days  to  get  jui^  the  feeling  he  wanted  it  to  embody,  and 
in  the  meantime  he  wrote  her,  March  17,  1898: 

'  'I  came  very  near  finishing  the  pidlure  today; 
I  think  I  have  the  little  figures  capital.  It  might 
be  my  luck  to  get  the  quality  I  am  after  to? 
morrow,  if  so  I  will  bring  it  up  to  you  tomorrow 
evening;  if  not  I  will  take  the  liberty  of  calling 
to  tell  you  the  why  and  wherefore." 

The  pidlure  is  very  reserved  and  dignified  in  com? 
position,  simple  in  con^rudtion  and  surprising  in  its 
sugge^ion  of  infinite  spaciousness.  Not  so  much  in 
what  it  represents  as  in  what  it  impKes  of  an  under? 
landing  of  the  elemental  fadls  of  nature  does  it 
the  requirements  of  a  ma^erpiece  oflandscape  art. 

58 


artli  s  dead  points 

illness  of  Heaven . 

Head  sketch  and  tke  varu 

arc  representative  of  what  he 

coala  the  way  of  realism.  It  is  not,  of 

realism  of  painting  divorced  from 

.  .    -         - ...   ^  ^  are  as  the  breath  of  Hfe  to  pidlorial 

art.  His  interpretation  of  realitief:  '^s  c-^r---*' -Tously 

associated  with  a  certain  fineness  c  saves 

the  mo^  literal  of  his  characterizations  from  the  hanal? 

u  V  of  the  commonplace. 

of  his  landscapes  is  prohahly  rhat  owned 

by  Miss  Dioodgood,  who  knew  the  artiift  and  chose  it 

from  se-^^pcl  car'\^asc-  ^PF^t^H^  at  e  itpass^ 

J  ,  .viAMHaH8  aJiHOHiA'5  omaaaH-i  aM  r3a.RiOD 
ed  mto  ner  :     xjjorY^^^vv^iiJ^    ^  .or  a  tew 

days  to  getjt   —  =*<i^(rf.i%imaK*»«tf^ 

in  the  n^'^n  '^ti^^^  he  ^^.^rrte  her  M^^cr  t-t  iSgS: 

^    mk  I  have  the  li  •  -  ^  ^  ' 

be  my  luck  to  g  v 

morrow,  if  so  I  \  w 
evening;  it  not  I  w  iig 
to  teU  you  the  why  and  whcieicre/' 

llie  pidlure  is  very  reserved  and  dignified  in  corns' 
position,  simple  in  com^trudtion  and  surprising  in  its 
s  jggesftion  of  infinite  spaciousness.  Not  so  much  in 
what  it  represents  as  in  v/hat  it  impHes  of  an  under* 
aandmg  of  the  elemental  fadts  of  nature  docs  it  fulfill 
the  re<]utrements  of  a  ma^erpiece  of  landscape  art. 

58 


I 


There  are  other  works  as  intere^ing  and  as  import^ 
ant  as  any  included  in  this  resume  which  I  have  not 
mentioned,  not  because  they  are  any  less  truly  express 
sive  and  impressive,  but  merely  because  I  feel  that 
these  are  sufficient  to  acquaint  one  with  the  variety 
and  the  importance  ofhis  achievement. 

PART  FIVE 

RYDER  is  to  my  way  of  thinking  the  greater  of 
all  our  purely  imaginative  painters.  His  pic^^ 
tures  are  notable  for  the  larger  and  more  vital  qualities 
of  design  and  for  the  subtle  elements  of  atmosphere 
and  chiaroscuro.  It  is  true,  however,  that  his  predi? 
lections  for  precious  passages  of  color,  the  finer  adjust^ 
ments  of  values,  and  for  the  manipulation  of  pigment 
in  an  effort  to  get  unusual  quaKty  were  very  nearly 
an  obsession  with  him.  It  is  also  true  that  he  exag? 
gerated  one  or  another  or  all  of  these,  at  times,  to  a 
point  where  mere  painting  actually  obscures  the  vi^ 
sion.  He  also  almo^  invariably  reduced  to  the  meas^: 
ure  of  a  personal  presentation  his  interpretation  of 
every  subjedl,  and  the  charadterii^ic  intimacy  ofhis 
appeal  is,  in  away,  undoubtedly  an  accurate  index  of 
his  Hmitations.  All  of  which  is  enough  I  hope  to  cons^ 
vince  the  reader  that  I  am  quite  sensible  ofhis  deficien:! 
cies  and  will  I  tru^  give  point  to  my  endeavor  to  suh^ 
^antiate  my  belief  in  his  greatness. 

The  originality  ofhis  invention  is  individual  and 
unique.  It  provides  new  incident  to  inform  historic 


59 


fadls  and  romantic  ideas  with  new  meaning .  His  pic:: 
tures  cannot  be  lightly  dismissed  by  any  but  a  com* 
monplace  mind.  In  the  very  depths  of  even  the  mo^ 
unfathomable  of  them  there  are  impalpable  suggest 
tions  of  secret  beauty.  The  simple  A  of  his  small  ma^ 
rines  are  big  in  a  way  more  important  than  that  of 
mere  size.  The  boat  that  appears  in  them  is  a  sensible 
symbol  of  Life  presented  in  such  a  manner  as  to  illus^ 
trate  forcibly  the  uncertainty  that  encompasses  it. 
With  consummate  skill  he  manipulates  his  color  uns 
til  its  very  intensity  approaches  the  air  of  nameless 
premonition  that  descends  with  darkness  on  the  deep, 
and  simultaneously  he  develops  his  line  until  the 
measured  rise  and  fall  of  the  sea  is  felt.  Thus  he  con* 
trives  a  vivid  presentation  that  is  no  less  moving 
than  the  dramatic  interpretations  of  the  reali^s,  and 
reaches  heights  of  ec^asy  and  depths  of  despair  that 
are  not  to  be  approached  or  made  intelligible  except 
through  the  imagination.  The  Marine  in  the  National 
Gallery  at  V/ashington,  that  in  the  Van  Horne  Col^ 
ledtion  at  Montreal,  Burton  Mansfield's  and  the  can^s 
vas  entitled  V/ith  Sloping  Ma^  and  Dipping  Prow 
are  examples.  They  are  as  fine  as  poems  of  the  moon* 
light  on  the  water  as  the  ma^er  pieces  ofV  ander  Neer, 
which  indeed  are  the  only  other  paintings  I  recall 
wherein  one  will  find  a  corresponding  sense  of  the 
poetry  of  the  subject,  as  well  as  a  similarly  sensitive 
translation  of  it  into  visible  form. 

New  Bedford,  during  the  arti^'s  boyhood,  was  one 
of  the  greatest  of  American  whaKng  ports;  and  one 

60 


gathers  that  some  of  the  tales  of  the  sea  told  in  the 
Greets,  and  repeated  undoubtedly  in  his  own  home, 
mu^  have  contributed  in  no  small  way  to  the  enlarge^ 
ment  of  Ryder's  underi^anding  of  its  immensity  and 
power.  His  marines  are  almost  as  wonderful  for  their 
calculated  and  compelHng  beauty  of  color  and  design  as 
'Winslow  Homer's  are  for  their  tragic  significance. 
The  inherent  power  of  the  sea  and  the  tides  is  as  nicely 
felt  and  as  ably  expressed  in  the  poetry  of  Ryder's 
small  panels  as  in  the  prose  of  Homer's  large^  can^^ 
vases,  though  the  latter  may  bring  it  home  to  us  more 
often  and  more  forcibly  by  his  persistent  emphasis  on 
the  contrast  of  man's  precarious  struggling  to  get 
therefrom  a  living  and  the  interminable  irtruggle  of  the 
ocean  to  undermine  the  very  earth  on  which  we  live. 

Although  Ryder  never  consciously  attempts  to 
point  a  moral  in  a  pidlure  or  to  tell  a  lAory,  pradlically 
all  of  his  work  is  informed  with  meaning  and  pregnant 
with  sugge^ion — so  much  so,  indeed,  that  from  the 
be^  of  it  one  gets  an  intelledtual  as  well  as  an  emotional 
pleasure  of  the  highe^  sort.  He  sacrifices  innumerable 
delightful  details  and  seldom  introduces  any  unneces?: 
sary  inter e^  that  interferes  with  the  immediate  reali^ 
zation  of an  idea,  and  his  works  are  sufficient  evidence, 
I  think,  of  the  wisdom  of  his  choice  between  the  vital 
and  the  ineffectual  elements  in  their  composition  and 
their  execution. 

Of  the  obvious  accuracy  of  his  subtle  gradations  of 
tones  and  values  it  is  unnecessary  to  speak  at  length, 
but  it  should  be  remembered  that  the  processes  by 

6i 


which  such  effedts  as  he  got  are  obtained  are  neither 
easy  nor  well  underwood.  What  seems  in  the  finished 
canvas  so  simple  is,  in  reality,  a  sensitive  embodiment 
of  intangible  and  elusive  elements  of  color  and  oflight 
that  is  remarkable  rather  for  its  absence  in  the  art  of 
his  time .  It  is  a  manife^ation  ofbeauty  that  is  notice^ 
ably  a  charadteri^ic  of  only  the  greater  of  painters, 
and  its  rarity  is  a  rather  convincing  proof  of  the  diffi^s 
culty  of  this  means  of  expression.  In  the  hands  of  a 
Rembrandtrit  is  to  be  climated  at  its  full  value  in  a 
canvas  of  considerable  dimensions.  But  we  should 
avoid  the  mistake  of  thinking  that,  simply  because 
Ryder's  pidlures  are  generally  of  modei^  proportions, 
this  precious  quality  which  is  so  much  a  part  of  their 
persuasive  charm  is  in  any  sense  a  less  convincing  evis 
dence  of  his  genius  as  an  arti^. 

His  also  was  the  hand  of  a  ma^er  in  the  perfedt  dis^ 
position  of  forms  in  his  compositions  so  that  the  rela* 
tive  weight  of  the  masses  is  truly  and  rightly  balanced. 
It  is  a  significant  virtue  of  his  work  that  it  embodies,  as 
powerfully  as  that  of  almo  A  any  painter  of  his  day,  an 
exadl  sense  of  the  material  world  which  it  neverthe? 
less  no  more  resembles  than  a  dream  resembles  life. 
He  understood  the  intricacies  of  arabesque  and  the 
rhythm  of  line  as  fewhave  underwood  them,  and  from 
the  play  and  interplay  of  interwoven  themes  of  tone 
and  of  touch  he  evolved  several  superlatively  beauti^ 
ful  designs  like  the  Siegfried  and  the  Rhine  Maidens. 

Pradtically  all  of  his  produdl  is  pervaded  by  the 
sentiment  of  the  poet  and  the  dreamer  and  yet  none 

62 


HOMEWARD  BOUND 
COLLECTION  OF  MR.  FREDERIC  FAIRCHILD  SHERMAN, 

NEW  YORK 

Canvas.  9  inches  high,  18  inches  wide.  Signed  lower  right,  A.  P.  Ryder. 
Painted  for  Capt.  John  Robinson  of  the  Atlantic  Transport  Line,  1893  or  94. 


v:i  IS  ill  iiie  uiiiiiiiea 

,  ■'■  ynve  c    ^'    ' '  ■■ 
amjoQ  aHAwaMOH  , 

abiy  a.  4  :risric  of  only  tlie  greatest  ofpamrers, 

ar  /  IS  a  ratKcr  t  onvmcing  proof  of  tKe  d 

ci  means  of  expressiori  e  hands  01  a 

Rcai^ranac  it  is  to  be  climated  at  jtuU  value  in  a 
canvas  of  r  '  rable  aimensions.  But  we  sbould 
avoid  the  n.  _  e  of  t!  '  '  •;  that,  simply  because 
Ryder  spicftures  arc  gen  c  of  modesl  proper  ^ 
this  precious  quality  v^hich  is  so  much  a  part  i 
persuasive  charm  is  in  any  sense  a  less  convincing  evi? 
dence  of  his  genius  as  an  arti^. 

His  also  was  the  hand  of  a  master  in  the  perfect  dis* 
position  of  forms  in  his  compositions  so  that  tlie  rela^ 
tivev-   ■  '  ^    ^  "  ■   -    .  . 

It'-  ,:.,..._.u....._ 

pc        .Uy  as  thai  . 

exact  sense  of  the  maffiotJrWdbM  vxaiivi 
less  no  iwttisy  waB«^),aiiajHDEUva  o  jjm  Hmx3^4JQ:^fv>, 
He  understood^>thl?'feltMfef^&^^"^iHibe^t[^  and  the 
rhythm  of  line  as  fe  whave  underwood  them,  and  from 
the  play  and  interplay  of  interwoven  themes  of  tone 
and  of  touch  he  evolved  several  superlatively  beauti? 
fu^  "  ■  ■  1  and  the  Rhine  Maidens. 

j^i  V  ^  L  ^  V  jdud:  is  pervaded  by  the 
^  •  'he  dreamer  and  y^,t  none 


C2 


of  It  is  cheapened  by  sentimentality.  His  sentiment 
has  always  to  do  with  some  vital  phenomenon  of  na* 
ture  or  some  serious  intere^  of  life,  and  it  is  as  fine  in 
its  integrity  as  that  which  one  finds  in  the  sonnets  of 
Shakespere.  With  light  such  as  never  was  on  land  or 
sea  it  illuminates  recognized  forms  of  simple  grandeur 
in  themselves  and  sheds  upon  accustomed  aspedls  of 
the  earth  an  unearthly  lustre  of  transcendent  beauty. 
His  purpose  is  rather  the  presentation  of  ideals  of  Kfc 
that  are  as  far  removed  fi?om  life  itself  as  the  ^ars  are 
fi?om  the  earth  on  which  we  stand.  Thus  the  visible 
world  in  his  paintings  is  almo^  invariably  a  shadowy 
world,  through  which  one's  mind  is  led  to  the  contem? 
plation  of  upKfting  and  refining  ideas,  miraculously 
sugge^ed  by  modulations  of  light  and  shadow  as  they 
touch  upon  the  tangible  and  definite  forms  which  are 
the  foundations  of  his  designs. 

His  art  is  a  complete  expression  of  hiniself  His 
defedlive  technic  is  as  truly  a  result  of  his  disregard  of 
ei^ablished  procedure  in  painting  as  the  disorder  in 
which  he  lived  was  a  result  of  his  disregard  of  e^ah^ 
lished  laws  of  life.  There  are  obscure  passages  in  his 
paintings  and  there  were  corresponding  vagaries  in  his 
condudl.  Conventions  he  observed  little  in  art  and  less 
in  life.  He  was  no  more  painstaking  in  his  efforts  to 
eliminate  the  commonplace  from  his  pidtures  than 
he  was  in  his  elaborate  precautions  to  insure  himself 
againiA  the  visitations  of  idlers  and  of  the  merely  curi^ 
ous,  who  interfered  with  his  dreams.  Figuratively,  if 
not  hterally,  he  lived  in  another  world,  and  something 

63 


of  the  beauty  of  tKat  world  of  the  spirit  in  which  he 
Hved  inve^s  his  work  with  a  spiritual  significance 
more  compelling  even  than  its  arti^ic  intere^.  The 
bare  necessities  o{li{e  sufficed  him  for  living  and  the 
simple^  forms  of  thought  and  motifs  of  emotion  pro* 
vided  all  the  inspiration  and  the  material  he  required 
for  his  art. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  very  shadows,  in  which  all 
but  the  mo^  elementary  forms  of  his  compositions 
are  generally  enveloped,  really  emphasize  their  mean? 
ings  by  forcing  the  observer's  attention  upon  their 
spiritual  and  emotional  content.  In  them  the  imagi? 
nation  finds  ample  scope  for  exercise  unhindered  by 
the  interposition  of  needless  detail  and  unretarded  by 
arti^ic  conventions  that  interfere  with  one's  intellecss 
tual  liberty.  Everything  is  ordained  to  the  definite 
purpose  of  illustrating  the  significance  of  ideas  and  . 
ideals  rather  than  the  patent  potency  of  arti^ic  arss 
rangements  complete  in  themselves.  His  pidlures  do 
not  re^  the  eye.  Rather  they  intrigue  one  into  invest 
tigations  that  lead  to  surprising  and  satisfying  discov? 
cries,  sometimes  of  momentary  formations  of  thought 
as  fragile  and  as  lovely  as  the  kaleidoscopic  mi^s,  and 
at  others  of  evidences  of  spiritual  beauty  as  fixed  and  as 
permanent  as  the  ^ars.  Any  observer  who  is  insensijs 
ble  to  the  indications  of  their  essential  idealism  mu^ 
be  forever  blind  to  all  that  is  be^  in  his  work,  for  that 
is  precisely  what  dignifies  it  as  the  work  of  a  ma^er. 


64 


Pictures  Painted  by 
Albert  Pinkham  Ryder 


If a  systematic  study  of  the  of  the  art  of  any  painter, 
extending  over  a  period  of  many  years  and  pursued 
with  untiring  zeal  and  painstaking  care,  is  Hkely  to 
enable  one  to  judge,  in  a  measure  accurately,  and 
speak,  in  a  way,  with  some  authority,  as  to  the  au^ 
thenticity  of certain  pictures,  about  which  there  exists 
no  prima  facie  evidence,  I  may  perhaps,  without  un:: 
due  presumption,  believe  that  my  opinion  as  to  the 
genuineness  of  any  picture  attributed  to  Albert 
Ryder  is,  at  least,  as  good  as  another's.  Certain  of  the 
works  in  the  following  list  of  autograph  works,  which 
I  have  examined  (marked  by  an  asterisk)  have  been 
disputed  by  others — several,  including  two  whose 
provenance  is  complete  and  beyond  question,  by  a 
single  critic.  Any  marked  'R'  have  been  very  much 
restored. 

Certain  motifs  Ryder  seems  never  to  have  tired  of. 
There  are  numerous  variants  of  the  small  composi? 
tion  of  the  boat  at  sea  and  of  the  small  square  design 
of  the  landscape  by  the  sea  with  or  without  cattle. 
He  did  also  many  little  upright  figures  in  full  length, 
horsemen  plodding  homeward,  horses  and  cows  at 
pasture,  and  of  almost  every  other  subject  he 
tempted  there  are  several  versions. 

The  moonlight,  which  is  a  characteristic  element 

^5 


of  mucK  that  he  did,  and  the  masterly  disposition  of 
masses,  specially  noticeable  in  the  matter  of  cloud 
forms  in  many  canvases,  most  of  all,  make  for  that 
certainty  of  greatness  that  marks  him  as  a  master. 
His  themes  are  almost  invariably  in  a  minor  key  and 
his  coloring  in  the  lower  register  is  finely  expressive 
and  touches  the  deeper  chords  of  human  emotion. 
In  lighter  vein  he  attempted  very  little.  His  mind  v^as 
generally  busy  with  the  serious  and  significant  expe? 
riences  and  possibilities  of  life  and  his  work  is  conse- 
quently rich  with  secrets  of  beauty  and  of  truth, 
sensed  though  unseen,  intimations  of  the  inevitable, 
that  provide  new  food  for  thought  and  open  up  illim? 
itable  unexplored  areas  for  investigation. 

Of  his  friends  among  the  artists  the  best  judges  of 
Ryder's  work  and  of  the  authenticity  of  pictures  said 
to  be  from  his  hand  are,  I  believe,  Messrs.  Alexander 
Shilling,  Albert  L.  GroU  and  Elliott  Daingerfield.  I 
have  perhaps  personally  examined  more  of  his  works 
than  anyone  else,  and  have  photographs  of  one  huns: 
dred  and  fifteen,  about  two  thirds  of  the  entire  prods: 
uct  of  his  lifetime,  including  practically  all  of  his  im:: 
portant  pictures.  It  would  be  absurd  to  presume,  I 
think,  that  anyone  undertook  to  execute  forgeries  of 
his  work  previous  to  1912,  as  they  had  still  at  that 
time  only  a  small  market  value,  and  there  would  have 
been  no  sufficient  profit  in  it  to  make  it  worth  while. 
Of  recent  forgeries  I  have  seen  not  more  than  six  or 
seven  and  they  were  too  poor  to  deceive  anyone  at  all 
familiar  with  his  work.  The  distinguishing  marks  of 


66 


his  hand  are  so  unique  m  the  painting  of  his  time  in 
this  country  that  it  is  not  really  difficult  to  determine 
whether  a  picture  is  from  his  brush.  The  curious 
cloud  formations  and  the  strange  misshapen  boat  of 
his  marines,  the  long  thin  legs  and  the  high^backed 
saddle  of  the  Arab  horse  in  his  Eastern  subjects,  the 
peculiar  drawing  of  the  raised  forefoot  of  a  moving 
horse,  the  extreme  simplicity  of  his  drawing  in  land^: 
scape  and  the  two  schemes  of  color,  brown  and  blue^ 
green,  in  which  he  worked,  constitute  a  sufficient 
basis  for  the  beginning  of  a  study  of  his  style.  The 
absence  of  a  signature  is  generally  a  favorable  omen. 
Some  authentic  works,  I  may  add,  bear  forged  signa? 
tures. 


Borough  of  Brooklyn,  New  York  City 

Museum  of  the  Brooklyn  Institute 

1.  The  Sheepfold*  Canvas:  H.,  8^;  W.,  10^;  S. 

2.  The  Waste  of  Waters*  Panel:  H.,  115^;  W.,  12;  (N.  A.  1884). 

3.  Summer's  Fruitful  Pasture*  Panel:  H.,  7^;  W.,  10. 

4.  Autumn's  Golden  Pathway*  Panel:  H.,  8^;  W.,  5^. 

5.  Grazing  Horse*  Canvas:  H.,  1054;  W.,  1454- 

6.  Horse  in  Stall*  Canvas:  H.,  13%;  W.,  10;  S.,  A.P.R. 

7.  Moonrise*  Canvas:  H.,  85^;  W.,  10^. 

8.  The  Shepherdess*  Panel:  H.,  10^;  W.,  6^. 

9.  Evening  Glow*  Canvas:  H.,  8;  W.,  % 

Frank  L.  Babbott 

10.  Maid  of  Arcady Probably  No.  139  of  this  List.   Small.   (N.  A.  1886?) 


Boston,  Mass. 

Messrs.  R.  C.  and  N.  M.  Vose 


11.  Joan  of  Arc*  Canvas:  H.,  lOJ^;  W.,  7^;  S.U.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

12.  Pirate's  Isle  Canvas:  H.,  10^;  W.,  28. 

13.  The  Gondola  Canvas:  H.,  8^;  W.,  26%. 

14.  Rosalind  and  Celia*  H.,  10^;  W.,  6^. 

15.  Elemental  Forces*  Canvas:  H.,  21^;  W.,  32^. 


67 


16.  Hillside  and  Pool*  Canvas:  H.,  18;  W.,  22. 

17.  The  Story  of  the  Cross*  Canvas:  H.,  14;  W.,  1154;  S.1.1.,  A.  Ryder. 

18.  The  Tempest*  (R.)  Canvas:  (Unfinished). 

19.  In  Fairyland*  H.,  4^;  W.,  7;  S.l.r.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

Dr.  Ananda  K.  Coomaraswamy 

20.  The  Wood  Road*  Canvas:  H.,  6^;  W.,  6^;  S.U.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

21.  Homeward  at  Twilight*  Canvas:  H.,  8;  W.,  10. 

Buffalo,  New  York 

Museum  of  Art 

22.  The  Temple  of  the  Mind*, 

Panel:  H.,  17^4;  W.,  16;  S.l.r.,  Ryder  (painted  in  the  early  80's). 

Mr.  Donald  Kellogg 

23.  Moonrise,  Marine*  Canvas:  H.,  9%;  W.,  11^. 

24.  Landscape  with  Figures. 

Carleton,  Oregon 

Mr.  Charles  E.  Ladd 

25.  Desdemona*  Canvas:  H.,  1454;  W.,  10. 

Chicago,  Illinois 

Mr.  Ralph  Cudney 

26.  A  Sea  Tragedy*  Canvas:  H.,  1554;  W.,  13;  (1892). 

27.  The  Smugglers  Panel:  H.,  115^;  W.,  12. 

28.  The  Elegy*  Academy  Board:  H.,  12^;  W.,  lOJ^. 

29.  Night  and  the  Sea*  Panel:  H.,  llj^;  W.,  1254. 

30.  Hunter's  Rest*  Canvas:  H.,  14;  W.,  24. 

3L  Diana's  Hunt*  Canvas:  H.,  18;  W.,  14. 

Mr.  J.  W.  Young 

32.  Golden  Twilight*  Canvas:  H.,  7;  W.,  12;  S.1.1,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

33.  White  Horse  Grazing*  ....Panel:  H.,  llj^;  W.,  17$4. 

Cleveland,  Ohio 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Warren  P.  King 

34.  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage*, 

Canvas:  H.,  10^;  W.,  854;  S.1.1.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

Columbus,  Ohio 

Mr.  Ferdinand  Howald 

35.  Returning  Home*  Canvas:  H.,  7;  W..  12. 

68 


Detroit,  Michigan 

Estate  of  Charles  L.  Freer 

36.  The  Red  Cow*  Panel:  H.,  llj^;  W.,  12. 

Elmhurst,  Long  Island,  New  York 

Mrs.  Charles  Fitzpatrick   

37.  The  Way  of  the  Cross*  Canvas:  H.,  14;  W.,  11^. 

Englewood,  New  Jersey 

Mr.  E.  N.  Bulkley 

38.  Landscape*. 

Minneapolis,  Minnesota 

Institute  of  Fine  Arts 

39.  The  Peasant's  Return .. Canvas :  H.,  12%;  W.,  1154;  S.1.1.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

Mrs.  H.  L.  Judd 

40.  Moonlight  Canvas:  H.,  9;  W.,  lOVz;  S.I.I.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

Montreal,  Canada 

Mrs.  E.  B.  Greenshields 

41.  The  Sentimental  Journey*, 

Canvas:  H.,  12%;  W.,  10;  S.1.1.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

Lady  Van  Home 

42.  Constance*  Canvas:  H.,  28;  W.,  35. 

43.  Siegfried* 

Canvas:  H.,  19%;  W.,  20i/^;  S.l.r.,  A.  P.  Ryder;  (S.  A.  A.  1902). 

44.  Moonlight  on  the  Sea*.  .Panel:  H.,  11^;  W.,  ISfg;  S.l.r.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

Newark,  New  Jersey 

Mr.  A.  F.  Egner 

45.  Plodding  Homeward*, 

H.,  103%;  W.,  16;  (S.  A.  A.  1882.    Since  altered). 

46.  Horse  Drinking*    Academy  Board:  H.,  17;  W.,  20. 

New  Bedford,  Mass. 

Mrs.  E.  N.  Ryder 

47.  Boy  Driving  Hay  Wagon  Canvas:  H.,  10^;  W.,  14^;  (early). 

69 


New  Haven,  Connecticut 

Mr.  Burton  Mansfield 

48.  Moonlight*  Panel:  H.,  11^;  W.,  12^;  S.l.r.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

New  York  City,  New  York 

Mr.  A.  W.  Bahr 

49.  Diana*  Canvas:  H.,  28^;  W.,  19^. 

50.  Landscape  Sketch*  H.,  5^;  W.,  7%, 

Miss  Marian  Y.  Bloodgood 

51.  Landscape*  Canvas:  H.,  10;  W.,  14;  S.l.c,  Ryder;  (finished  1898). 

Mr.  Edwin  S.  Chapin 

52.  The  Last  Load*  Panel:  H.,  65^;  W.,  12;  S.l.r.,  A.  P.  R. 

Mrs.  Janet  H.  DeKay 

53.  Plodding  Homeward, 

(S.  A.  A.  1882;  Reproduced  Century  Magazine,  June,  1890). 

Mr.  Charles  Melville  Dewey 

54.  Flight  into  Egypt*  Canvas:  H.,  14;  W.,  11^. 

55.  Christ  and  Mary*  Canvas  on  panel:  H.,  14%;  W.,  17f^. 

56.  Forest  of  Arden*  Canvas:  H.,  18;  W.,  IS. 

57.  Sea  and  Cliff*  Canvas:  H.,  14^;  W.,  2454- 

58.  Homeward  Bound*  Canvas  on  panel:  H.,  65^;  W.,  11^. 

59.  Landscape,  Moonlight*  Canvas:  H.,  12^;  W.,  11%. 

A  Private  Collector 

60.  Spirit  of  Spring*  Canvas:  H.,  12fi;  W.,  17^;  (sight). 

Ferargil  Galleries 

61.  Landscape  and  Sheep*  Canvas:  H.,  19%;  W.,  155^;  S.l.r.,  A.  P.  R. 

Mr.  John  Gellatly 

62.  Jonah*  Canvas:  H.,  27^;  W.,  34%;  S.1.1.,  A.  P.  Ryder; 

(finished  probably  in  1885). 

63.  Christ  Appearing  to  Mary*, 

Canvas:  H.,  14^;  W.,  17^;  S.1.1.,  Ryder;  (N.  A.  1888). 

64.  The  Flying  Dutchman*  Canvas:  H.,  14^;  W.,  1754. 

65.  Dancing  Dryads*  Canvas:  H.,  9;  W.,  7;  S.l.r.,  A.  Ryder. 

66.  The  Sea*  Canvas:  H.,  20%;  W.,  18^^. 

67.  Harvest*  Canvas:  H.,  26;  W.,  35^. 

68.  Florizel  and  Perdita*. .  .Canvas:  H.,  12%;  W.,  7Va;  S.l.r.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

69.  Pegasus*  (Departing)  Canvas:  H.,  14^4;  W.,  17%. 

70.  King  Cophetua*  Canvas:  H.,  24^^;  W.,  18. 

70 


71.  The  Canal*  Canvas:  H.,  IQYa;  W.,  20%. 

72.  Landscape  with  Cattle*  Canvas:  H.,  3754;  W.,  ZSys. 

73.  Pastoral  Study*  Canvas:  H.,  24^;  W.,  29^/^;  S.l.r.,  Ryder. 

Mr.  Salvator  Anthony  Guarino 

74.  Autumn  Landscape  Panel:  H.,  5^;  W.,  8f^. 

75.  Pastoral  H.,  7f4;  W.,  14J^;  S.U.,  Ryder. 

Mr.  Robert  Rosea 

76.  Moonrise*  Canvas:  H.,  7;  W.,  13. 

Messrs.  M.  Knoedler  &  Sons 

77.  Off  the  Coast  of  Maine*. . .  .Panel:  H.,  14;  W.,  13;  S.1.1.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

Mr.  C.  W.  Kraushaar 

78.  The  White  Horse*  Canvas:  H.,  SYs;  W.,  10. 

79.  Old  Mill  by  Moonlight*  Canvas:  H.,  8;  W.,  12. 

80.  The  Pasture*  Canvas:  H.,  12;  W.,  ISVa;  S.1.1.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

Mr.  Louis  A.  Lehmair 

81.  By  the  Tomb  of  the  Prophet*, 

Panel:  H.,  SVa;  W.,  1154;  S.1.1.,  A.  Ryder. 

Mr.  Adolph  Lewisohn 

82.  Mending  the  Harness*.  .Canvas:  H.,  19;  W.,  225^;  S.l.r.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art 

83.  Toilers  of  the  Sea*, 

Panel:  H.,  11^;  W.,  12;  S.1.1.,  A.  Ryder;  (S.  A.  A.  1884). 

84.  The  Curfew  Hour*, 

Canvas:  H.,  7H;  W.,  10  3/16;  S.1.1.,  A.  P.  Ryder;  (S.  A.  A.  1882). 

85.  The  Bridge*  Canvas:  H.,  9^;  W.,  26^. 

86.  Smugglers'  Cove*  Canvas:  H.,  10;  W.,  28. 

Mr.  N.  E.  Montross 

87.  Oriental  Camp*  Canvas:  H.,  JVa;  W.,  12;  S.1.1.,  A.  Ryder. 

88.  Moonlight  Marine*  Panel:  H.,  12;  W.,  12^;  S.1.1.,  A.  Ryder. 

89.  Resurrection*  Canvas:  H.,  17^^;  W.,  lAYs;  (1885). 

90.  Dead  Bird*  Panel:  H.,  AVsl  W.,  9^. 

91.  At  the  Ford*  Panel:  H.,  12;  W.,  11^;  S.1.1.,  A.  Ryder. 

92.  Fisherman's  Cottage*  Canvas:  H.,  12;  W.,  14. 

Mrs.  Alexander  Morten 

93.  Passing  Song*  Panel:  H.,  8^;  W.,  4^. 

94.  Moonlit  Cove*  Canvas:  H.,  14^;  W.,  17. 

Mr.  George  S.  Palmer 

95.  In  the  Stable*  Canvas:  H.,  21;  W.,  32;  S.l.r.,  Ryder. 

96.  With  Sloping  Mast*. . .  .Canvas:  H.,  12;  W.,  11^;  S.1.1.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

97.  Autumn  Landscape*  Canvas:  H.,  18;  W.,  24;  S.1.1. 

71 


Mr.  Charles  C.  Rumsey 

98.  Twilight*  Panel:  H.,  5;  W.,  8^. 

Dr.  A.  T.  Sanden 

99.  Gay  Head*  Canvas:  H.,  JVti  W.,  12^. 

100.  Night*  Canvas:  H.,  12%;  W.,  20^;  S.1.1.,  Ryder. 

101.  Under  a  Cloud*  (R.)  Canvas:  H.,  20;  W.,  23^. 

102.  Forest  of  Arden*  Canvas:  H.,  19;  W.,  15;  S.l.r.,  Ryder. 

103.  Macbeth  and  the  Witches*  Canvas:  H.,  28^;  W.,  35^. 

104.  Weir's  Orchard*  Canvas:  H.,  W/s;  W.,  20^. 

105.  The  Race  Track*  Canvas:  H.,  27f^;  W.,  35^;  S.1.1.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

Mr.  C.  L.  Schlens 

106.  Misty  Moonlight*  Canvas  on  panel:  H.,         W.,  11^. 

107.  The  Pond  by  Moonlight*  Canvas:  H.,  12;  W.,  20. 

108.  Babes  in  the  Wood*  Canvas:  H.,  9;  W.,  7. 

Mrs.  Julia  Munson  Sherman 

109.  Arcadia*  Cardboard  on  panel:  H.,  11^;  W.,  12^. 

Mr.  Frederic  Fairchild  Sherman 

110.  Arab  Camp*  Canvas:  H.,  28;  W.,  24. 

111.  Ophelia*  Panel:  H.,  16;  W.,  113^;  (N.  A.  1887). 

112.  Homeward  Bound*  (Marine) » 

Canvas:  H.,  9;  W.,  18;  S.l.r.,  A.  Ryder;  (1893-4). 

113.  The  Wreck*  Canvas:  H..  12;  W..  IAYa;  (189Q). 

114.  Landscape  with  Sheep*  Panel:  H.,  7^;  W.,  9^;  S.l.r.,  Ryder. 

115.  Spirit  of  Autumn*, 

Panel:  H.,  8  7/16;  W.,  5%;  S.1.1.,  A.  P.  Ryder;  (painted  in  1875). 

Mrs.  Lloyd  Williams 

116.  The  Lovers*  Panel:  H.,  llfg;  W.,  7^;  (S.  A.  A.  1880). 

Northampton,  Mass. 

Hillyer  Art  Gallery,  Smith  College 

117.  Perette*, 

Canvas:  H.,  12^;  W.,  7f^;  S.l.r.,  A.  P.  Ryder;  (painted  about  1890). 

Passaic,  New  Jersey 

Mrs.  W.  F.  Cottier 

118.  Oak  Trees  Canvas:  H.,  SVs;  W.,  10^^;  (painted  late  80*s). 

Philadelphia,  Pennsylvania 

Mr.  John  F.  Braun 

119.  Autumn  Afternoon*  Canvas:  H.,  21;  W.,  17;  (painted  late  70*8). 

72 


Pittsburgh,  Pennsylvania 

Dr.  Robert  Milligan 

120.  Autumn*  Canvas:  H.,  6;  W.,  9^. 

Portland,  Oregon 

Col.  C.  E.  S.  Wood 

121.  Woman  and  Staghound  Panel:  H.,  11%;  W.,  53^;  Signed  on 

back  in  ink,  "A.  P.  Ryder,  80  E.  Washington  Square,  Benedict." 

122.  Landscape  Canvas  on  panel:  H.,  9%;  W.,  11^. 

Princeton,  New  Jersey 

Prof.  Frank  Jewett  Mather,  Jr. 

123.  Moonlight  by  the  Sea*  Canvas:  H.,  8;  W.,  10;  S.l.r.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

St.  Louis,  Missouri 

City  Art  Museum 

124.  The  Sisters*.  .Panel:  H.,  11^^;  W.,  Ss/s;  (Evans  Sale,  1900,  "Charity"). 

Southold,  Long  Island,  New  York 

Mr.  a.  H.  Cosden 

125.  The  Barnyard*  Canvas:  H.,  1154;  W.,  12. 

Washington,  D.  C. 

National  Gallery,  Evans  Collection 

126.  Moonlight  at  Sea*  Panel:  H.,  16;  W.,  1754. 

Mr.  Duncan  C.  Phillips 

127.  Macbeth  and  the  Witches*  Canvas  on  panel:  H.,  10;  W.,  10. 

128.  Smugglers  Landing  Place*, 

Panel:  H.,  12^;  W.,  13^;  S.l.r.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

Worcester,  Mass. 

Museum  of  Art 

129.  Pegasus  (Arriving)*  Panel:  H.,  12;  W.,  11^;  Inscribed  on  back 

"Pegasus,  painted  by  Albert  P.  Ryder  for  Charles  DeKay,  1885." 

YouNGsTowN,  Ohio 

Butler  Art  Institute 

130.  Roadside  Meeting*. . Canvas:  H.,  155^;  W.,  12^;  S.l.r.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

73 


Miscellaneous 


131.  Landscape  Sketch*, 

Panel:  H.,  9;  W.,  12^;  Inscribed  lower  right  by  Mr.  Brush. 

132.  The  Equestrian*  Canvas:  H.,  8^;  W.,  11^. 

133.  Travelers  at  Dusk*  Panel:  H.,  7;  W.,  1154- 

134.  Sunset  Hour*  Canvas:  H.,  10;  W.,  15;  S.1.1.,  A.  P.  Ryder. 

135.  The  Monastery*  Canvas:  H.,  13;  W.,  9]^;  S. 

136.  Moonlight  H.,  11;  W.,  11;  (Conklin  Sale,  1905). 

137.  Sunset  Glow*  Canvas:  H.,  734;  W.,  9. 

138.  Moonlight  H.,  18;  W.,  17;  (Evans  Sale,  1900). 

139.  Little  Maid  of  Acadie, 

H.,  10;  W.,  5^;  (Evans  Sale,  1900.    N.  A.  1886). 

140.  Stag  Hunt  H.,  8;  W.,  10;  (Conklin  Sale,  1905). 

141.  Launce  and  His  Dog  H.,  12;  W.,  6;  (Evans  Sale,  1900). 

142.  St.  Agnes  Eve. 

143.  Nourmahal  (S.  A.  A.  1880). 

144.  Stag  Drinking*  Leather:  H.,  27;  W.,  18^;  (screen  panel). 

145.  Stag  and  Two  Does*  Leather:  H.,  27;  W.,  18^;  (screen  panel). 

146.  The  Sisters*  H.,  12;  W.,  6;  (Evans  Sale,  1900). 

147.  The  Lorelei*  (Unfinished). 

148.  Landscape,  Late  Afternoon  (Reproduced  Century  Magazine, 

June,  1890,  as  the  property  of  James  B.  Inglis). 

149.  Girl  in  Landscape, 

(Reproduced  New  Bedford  Standard,  June  10th,  1917). 

150.  Late  Afternoon*  H.,  10;  W.,  9%;  (Morten  Sale,  1919). 

151.  The  Pond*  H.,  12^;  W.,  1654;  (Morten  Sale,  1919). 


74 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


A  Modern  Colorist.    Albert  Pinkham  Ryder.    By  Henry  Eckford. 
Illustrated.    The  Century  Magazine,  June,  1890. 

A  Painter  of  Dreams.    By  Joseph  Lewis  French.  Illustrated. 
The  Broadway  Magazine,  September,  1905. 

Paragraphs  from  the  Studio  of  a  Recluse.    By  Albert  P.  Ryder. 
The  Broadway  Magazine,  September,  1905. 

The  History  of  American  Painting.    By  Samuel  Isham. 
8vo.    Illustrated.    N.  Y.,  1905  (pp.  394,  446-7). 

The  Story  of  American  Painting.    By  Charles  Caffin. 
Bvo.    Illustrated.    N.  Y.,  1907  (pp.  218,  221). 

The  Art  of  Albert  P.  Ryder.   By  Roger  E.  Fry.  Illustrated. 
The  Burlington  Magazine.    April,  1908. 

On  Albert  P.  Ryder.    By  Walter  Pach.  Illustrated. 

The  Field  of  Art,  Scribner's  Magazine,  January,  1911. 

Albert  Ryder.    By  Duncan  Phillips.  Illustrated. 
The  American  Magazine  of  Art,  August,  1916. 

Forbes  Watson  in  the  N.  Y.  Evening  Post,  March  31,  1917. 

Henry  McBride  in  the  N.  Y.  Sun,  April  1,  1917. 

The  Romantic  Spirit  in  American  Art.    By  Frank  Jewett  Mather,  Jr. 
The  Nation,  April  12,  1917. 

Jeanne  Judson  in  the  N.  Y.  Sun,  April  29,  1917. 

Albert  P.  Ryder.    By  Marsden  Hartley.    The  Seven  Arts,  May,  1917. 

New  Bedford's  Painter  of  Dreams.    By  David  M.  Cheney. 

Illustrated.    The  New  Bedford  Standard.    June  10,  1917. 

Albert  Pinkham  Ryder,  Artist  and  Dreamer.    By  Elliott  Daingerfield. 
Illustrated.    The  Field  of  Art,  Scribner's  Magazine,  March,  1918. 

Catalogue  of  the  Memorial  Exhibition  of  the  Works  of  Albert  P.  Ryder. 
Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art,  March  11-April  14,  1918. 
Illustrated.   Wrappers.   16mo.   N.  Y.,  1918. 

Albert  Ryder.    By  Leo  Stein.   The  New  Republic,  April  27,  1918. 

Albert  Pinkham  Ryder;  An  Appreciation.    By  Walter  deS.  Beck. 
The  International  Studio,  April,  1920. 


75 


PAINTINGS  SHOWN  BY  ALBERT  PINKHAM  RYDER  AT  THE 
NATIONAL  ACADEMY  EXHIBITIONS 

1873  Clearing  Away 

1876  Cattle  Piece 

1881  Landscape  and  Figures 

1882  Landscape 

1883  Landscape 

1883  Landscape  and  Figure  (Autumn  exhibition) 

1884  The  Waste  of  Waters  is  their  Field  (Now  in  Brooklyn  Museum) 
1886  Little  Maid  of  Arcady  (Now  in  Collection  of  Mr.  Frank  L.  Babbott?) 

1886  Smugglers  (Autumn  exhibition) 

1887  Figure  Composition 

1887  Ophelia  (Autumn  exhibition)  (Now  in  Collection  of  the  Author) 

1888  Christ  Appearing  to  Mary  (Now  in  Collection  of  Mr.  John  Gellatly) 

PAINTINGS  SHOWN  BY  ALBERT  PINKHAM  RYDER  AT  EXHI- 
BITIONS OF  THE  SOCIETY  OF  AMERICAN  ARTISTS 

1878  Landscape 

1879  Market  Horse 
The  Chase 

Landscape  and  Figures 
In  the  Wood 
Spring 

1880  Chill  November 
Moonlight 

Two  Lovers  (Now  in  possession  of  Mrs.  Lloyd  Williams) 

Nourmahal 

An  Eastern  Scene 

Study 

1881  Moonlight 

1882  Curfew  Hour  (Now  in  Metropolitan  Museum,  New  York) 
Homeward  Plodding  (Collection  of  Mr.  A.  F.  Egner) 

1883  Landscape 
Moonlight 

1884  Marine  (Now  in  Hearn  Collection,  Metropolitan  Museum) 

1886  Moonlight 

1887  Moonlight 

1902   Siegfried  (Now  in  the  Van  Home  Collection,  Montreal) 


76 


PAINTINGS    SHOWN    AT    THE    MEMORIAL    EXHIBITION  OF 
WORKS  AT  METROPOLITAN  MUSEUM,  NEW  YORK. 
MARCH  11  TO  APRIL  14,  1918 


PICTURE  LENT  BY 

In  the  Stable  George  S.  Palmer 

Roadside  Meeting   R.  C.  and  N.  M.  Vose 

The  White  Horse  N.  E.  Montross 

Mending  the  Harness  Adolph  Lewisohn 

The  Canal  John  Gellatly 

Joan  of  Arc  R.  C.  and  N.  M.  Vose 

The  Pasture   Dr.  Dudley  Tenney 

Oriental  Camp  N.  E.  Montross 

The  Red  Cow  Charles  L.  Freer 

The  Wood  Road   R.  C.  &  N.  M.  Vose 

At  the  Ford   N.  E.  Montross 

The  Curfew  Hour   Metropolitan  Museum 

Passing  Song   Mrs.  Alexander  Morten 

Perette   Hillyer  Art  Gallery 

The  Lovers   Mrs.  Lloyd  Williams 

Moonrise,  Marine   A.  T.  Sanden 

Gay  Head   A.  T.  Sanden 

Florizel  and  Perdita   John  Gellatly 

Resurrection   N.  E.  Montross 

Flying  Dutchman   John  Gellatly 

Dancing  Dryads   N.  E.  Montross 

Harvest   John  Gellatly 

Pastoral  Study   John  Gellatly 

Night   A.  T.  Sanden 

Night  and  the  Sea   Charles  Melville  Dewey 

Pegasus   Mrs.  Alexander  Morten 

Pegasus   John  Gellatly 

Moonlight  Burton  Mansfield 

The  Sea   John  Gellatly 

Moonlight,  Marine   N.  E.  Montross 

The  Dead  Bird   N.  E.  Montross 

Diana's  Hunt   Charles  Melville  Dewey 

Under  a  Cloud   A.  T.  Sanden 

Moonlight  Cove   Mrs.  Alexander  Morten 

77 


Toilers  of  the  Sea   Metropolitan  Museum 

Jonah  Col.  C.  E.  S.  Wood 

Temple  of  the  Mind  R.  B.  Angus 

Forest  of  Arden  ^  A.  T.  Sanden 

Siegfried  Lady  Van  Horne 

Desdemona  Charles  E.  Ladd 

Macbeth  and  the  Witches  A.  T.  Sanden 

The  Sentimental  Journey   Mrs.  E.  B.  Greenshields 

Constance   Lady  Van  Horne 

The  Flight  into  Egypt  Charles  Melville  Dewey 

The  Way  of  the  Cross  Mrs.  Charles  Fitzpatrick 

Weir's  Orchard  A.  T.  Sanden 

King  Cophetua  and  the  Beggar  Maid  John  Gellatly 

The  Race  Track  A.  T.  Sanden 


78 


Two  HUNDRED  AND  TWENTSTSFIVE  COPIES  OF  THIS 
BOOK  ON  DUTCH  HANDMADE  PAPER  PRIVATELY 
PRINTED  BY  FREDERIC  FAIRCHILD  SHERMAN 


